Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic Studies
(MEDAC)
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and
Case Studies
Edited by Omar Grech
Malta, Summer 2012
Med Agenda New Series — Special Issue
MEDAC Publications in Mediterranean IR and Diplomacy
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Table of Contents
4. Preface
Professor Stephen Calleya
5. Editor’s Introduction
Omar Grech
7. Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
by Colm Regan
23. Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy:
Some reflections
by Omar Grech
34. From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
by Tom Lodge
57. Tunisia after the Revolution:
Democracy between Stalling and Collapsing
by Bechir Chourou
Med Agenda — Special Issue
MEDAC Series in Mediterranean IR and Diplomacy
Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic Studies (MEDAC)
University of Malta
Msida MSD 2080, MALTA
Tel: (+356) 2340 2821 Fax: (+356) 2148 3091
e–mail: medac@um.edu.mt
Website: www.um.edu.mt/medac
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Acknowledgments
This publication is based on contributions made to a seminar on Democratic Transitions organised by the Human Dimension Programme at the
Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic Studies (MEDAC). This seminar was
funded by the Swiss Development Agency and the Government of Malta.
MEDAC wishes to express its sincere appreciation to the Swiss and Maltese
governments for their continuous and generous support.
Thanks are also due to all MEDAC staff who contributed to the organisation
of this seminar and to Tabea Leibbrand for assisting in the editing process.
Finally, sincere thanks to all the contributors to this volume for their time
and effort.
Contributors
Stephen Calleya is Director of the Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic
Studies and Professor of International Relations at the University of Malta.
Bechir Chorou is Professor of International Relations and Political Science
and Director of the University of Carthage in Tunis.
Omar Grech is Coordinator of the Human Dimension Programme at the
Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic Studies.
Tom Lodge is Dean of the Faculty of Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences
and Professor of Peace and Conflict Studies at the University of Limerick.
Colm Regan is a civil society activist with extensive experience in human
rights and development education.
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
PREFACE
by Professor Stephen Calleya, Director MEDAC
S
ince the end of the Cold War the Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic
Studies (MEDAC) has established itself as a centre of excellence in
diplomatic studies with a particular reference to issues pertaining to the
Mediterranean. More than 600 graduates and thousands of diplomats,
academics, policy makers and civil societal representatives have participated
in the MEDAC programmes, conferences, workshops and summer schools.
MEDAC has therefore provided a platform where an open and constructive
debate and dialogue on the international relations of the Mediterranean can
regularly take place.
It is in this context that MEDAC has been actively engaged in contributing to
the historic developments that have been unfolding since the commencement
of the Arab Uprisings in 2011. Citizens in each of the Arab countries where
revolutions have taken place were all united in wanting to remove the
shackles of their respective authoritarian regimes. While the outcome of
each case study remains uncertain, it is clear that democratic transitions will
only prove successful if all stakeholders remain committed and engaged to
the cause. The end goal of a better, fairer and more tolerant society for future
generations must be a guiding light to all those participating in the ongoing
struggle that requires continuous sacrifices.
In March 2012 MEDAC organized the postgraduate seminar entitled
“Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies”. This seminar
publication highlights the complex nature of democratic transitions and offers
insight into the long and winding road that the peoples in the Mediterranean
countries in transition will have to experience along this journey.
For more than a decade the Human Dimension Programme at MEDAC has
been a driving force when it comes to raising awareness about the democratic
deficit that has plagued the countries along the southern shore of the
Mediterranean. This includes providing coherent analysis on the obstacles
that hinder freedom of expression, the rule of law, human rights and gender
equality in countries located in the Mediterranean. At this critical juncture in
the transformation of contemporary Euro-Mediterranean relations MEDAC
will continue to strive to ensure that all stakeholders in such democratic
transitions are provided with an opportunity to make their voices heard
when it comes to the shaping the future direction of their country.
4
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Introduction
by Omar Grech, Editor
T
he postgraduate seminar on Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and
Case Studies was organised by the Human Dimension Programme of the
Mediterranean Academy of Diplomatic Studies in March 2012. The seminar
sought to reflect on the challenges of democratic transitions in the context
of the Arab Uprisings of 2011 within a broader context of democratisation
and human rights. The seminar was thus inspired by the events in North
Africa but was not intended to focus exclusively on these events. Instead the
seminar approached the issue of democratic transition by reflecting on the
trends in democratization (Colm Regan), the relationship between democracy
and rights (Omar Grech) and two case studies: one on South Africa (Tom
Lodge) and one on Tunisia (Bechir Chourou). The case studies were selected
with a view to assess democratic transition in two very different cases both
in terms of time, geography and context. The South African democratization
process has been ongoing for more than a decade and was the result of one
of the great human rights campaigns of the 20th century. By contrast the
Tunisian attempt at democratization is a very recent one and it came about
in a rather unexpected way as Bechir Chourou explains in his introduction.
Colm Regan considers a number of issues relating to democratization
commencing with a brief historical reference to the growth of democracy
(including the role of women therein) and in particular more recent trends
and patterns in the spread of democracy. He concludes that while broadly
there is cause for optimism in terms of the spread of democracy there are
reservations as to the spread of freedom. Thus Regan immediately raises
an interesting distinction between democracy and freedom and the notion
of ‘illiberal democracy’. This is a theme to which Grech returns in slightly
different terms in his contribution. Regan also refers to a number of
challenges associated with democratic transitions. In particular he highlights
the difficulty in defining what constitutes democracy as the literature veers
between narrow and broad definitions. Finally, Regan also considers the
role of civil society in democratic transitions and emphasises the important
role that civil society may and should play in democratic processes. In his
contribution Omar Grech elaborates on the risk (alluded to by Regan) that
may be associated with majoritarian democracy. The threat that a potential
‘tyrannous majority’ poses to minorities is considered while possible
solutions to this risk are identified in constitutionally protected rights and
also in alternative democratic models based on consensus rather than simple
majority.
5
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Tom Lodge provides an overview of the transition in South Africa from
apartheid to democracy. After providing a historical context he assesses the
key factors that led to the 1994 settlement including the strong commitment
to human rights as evidenced by the entrenchment of the Bill of Rights
in the South African constitution. Lodge then considers the issue of South
African democracy where the African National Congress (ANC) has been
the dominant party since the democratic transition. He concludes that so far
it appears that the ANC has broadly respected democratic principles and its
electoral success is due to persuasion rather than coercion. The final part
of Lodge’s contribution attempts to chart three possible scenarios for South
Africa’s democratic future.
Bechir Chourou is not overly optimistic in assessing the very early days of
the Tunisian democratic transition. He neatly encapsulates his hypotheses
in his title: Democracy between Stalling and Collapsing. Chourou provides
an overview of the developments in Tunisia since the deposition of Ben Ali
with a strong emphasis on the October 23rd elections. While still too early
to arrive at any definite conclusion as to the prospects for Tunisia Chourou
points out that the economic problems Tunisia is facing and the political
fragmentation currently in place are obstacles that need to be overcome
quickly. His early assessment on the behaviour of political parties is not
entirely positive. This contribution ends with the Sisyphean metaphor of
Tunisia pushing the democratic rock up a steep hill.
It may be argued that this metaphor illustrates vividly the key point made by
all the contributions to this small volume. Democratic transitions are hard
work and the dangers of reversion or collapse are always present. Regan
and Grech in different contexts stressed the dangers of illiberal democracies
(or tyrannous majorities). Lodge and Chourou highlighted the continuing
challenges of democratization in both old and new democratic transitions.
The emerging picture is not negative but it does contain shades of grey
interspersed with brighter colours.
6
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
Democratic Transitions:
Trends, Patterns, Challenges
Colm Regan
Introduction
W
e live in a time of infinite possibility where change and transition
have become the norm for the vast majority of the world’s
population. In the past five decades, we have witnessed profound change;
the ending of the pernicious Apartheid state in South Africa; the collapse
of hard line communism and its associated repression(s); the emergence
of widespread support for the women’s movement worldwide and for
the rights of women; a massive upsurge in basic literacy, health and
nutrition and a revolution in information and communications. Today,
the proportion of people unable to realise their basic physical needs is
smaller than at any previous time in history and our capacity to meet
such needs has never been greater.
Yet, we also live in a time where inequality is greater than ever before;
where the percentage of people with exponentially more than they need
(or could ever productively use) is also greater; where much of science
and progress is harnessed for the benefit and control of a small minority
and where, despite the explosion of information and communication, our
‘understanding of the world and our place in it’ remains deficient. It
seems that ‘the more we come together, the more we grow apart’. On
the one hand, recent history has highlighted the actual scale and depth
of increased democratic transition worldwide while also illustrating its
profound limitations and elitism.
An example illustrates the point. The estimated cost of saving the lives
of the 529,000 women who die annually (and unnecessarily) from
complications during pregnancy, childbirth or immediately after is US
$1.2 billion; a cost equivalent to less than that of just one single Stealth
7
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Bomber. The research, engineering and skill embodied in that one stealth
bomber could readily and economically save those lives but it does not
– they are simply not a priority; such a ‘democratic transition’ is not a
priority.
A second example relates to events in Syria today. On March 27th, 2012,
UN Special Co-ordinator for the Middle East peace process, Robert Serry
reported to the UN Security Council that the death toll since March 2011
(when the Syrian Uprising began) had reached 9,000 recorded deaths.1
Estimates for unrecorded deaths by Syrian human rights groups report, at
least, similar numbers. The UN estimates that there are now some 10,000
Syrian refugees in Lebanon and a further 11,000 in makeshift camps along
the Turkish border with all the attendant challenges of food insecurity,
poor accommodation and unhygienic sanitary conditions.2 It is important
that while we analyse and debate the nature of the current democratic
transition struggle in Syria and more broadly in the Arab World, we also
remember that the human cost of transition is very considerable.
In what follows, the focus is on three key issues:
-
Democratic transitions: is there cause for optimism in the long view?
-
Democracy and ‘freedom’: – what are the recent trends and patterns?
-
Some key challenges: democracy – divergent views; the challenge
of quantifying and measuring change and what is the role of civil
society in the context of democracy and change?
Long-term trends and patterns – grounds for optimism?
While there is considerable debate and disagreement as to how to define,
measure and analyse democracy, the long-term evidence as regards
key components of the transition towards greater democracy suggests
grounds for considerable optimism, at least formally. In 1900, there were
no countries with governments elected through universal adult suffrage;
in 2012, there are 117 such countries representing 60% of all countries
8
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
worldwide.3 Paralleling the expansion of formal electoral democracy has
been the expansion of sovereign states. As illustrated in Table 1 below, in
1900, there were only 55 sovereign countries and 13 empires but by 2000
that figure had dramatically increased to 192 and of those countries, 113
had been part of colonial and imperial systems and a further 33 parts of
other states. Some 55.8% of world population lived under some form of
monarchy (with 36.6% under absolutist monarchical rule) and a further
30.2% lived under colonial and imperial domination.4
At the beginning of the 20th century, only some 5% of the world’s people
had the right to democratically elect leaders in competitive elections, while
women were denied the right to vote (and in some countries ethnic and
racial minorities and the poor were also denied the right). Today, despite
fluctuating patterns, the proportion of adults who can democratically
elect their leaders exceeds 60%. This progress is all the more startling
given that in the twentieth century more citizens were killed by their
own governments than by foreign armies; despite the wars of 1914-1918
and 1939-1945, ongoing regional conflicts and inter-state wars and the
deaths of millions in the Holocaust and the terror regimes of Stalin, Mao
and Pol Pot.5 While the debate on the exact extent and impact of such
formal democracy raises many fundamental questions, the growth of
democratically elected governments remains a critical dimension in the
recognition and observance of human rights.
Table 1: the growth of ‘democracy’6
1900
55
Number of Sovereign States
Number of States Governed by
55
Colonial or Imperial States
Percentage of World Population in 12.4
Democracies
9
1950
80
2000
192
43
virtually none
31
58.2
(+5% in
‘restricted
democracies’)
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
In awarding the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize to Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah
Gbowee and Tawakkul Karman, the Norwegian Nobel Committee noted:
‘We cannot achieve democracy and lasting peace in the world unless
women obtain the same opportunities as men to influence developments
at all levels of society.’7
In this, they echoed the centrality of women’s rights in the transition
to meaningful democracy and the importance of such democracy in
human development and human rights as outlined in the UNDP Human
Development Report for 1995:
‘One of the defining movements of the 20thcentury has been the relentless
struggle for gender equality, led mostly by women, but supported by
growing numbers of men. When this struggle finally succeeds-as it must-it
will mark a great milestone inhuman progress. And along the way it will
change most of today’s premises for social, economic and political life.’8
From 1792 when British activist and author Mary Wollstonecraft offered a
systematic analysis for the equality of the sexes in her book “A Vindication
of the Rights of Women” to today when only six countries continue to
deny women the right to vote (Bhutan, Lebanon, Brunei, Saudi Arabia,
the United Arab Emirates and the Vatican City), the struggle for women’s
rights has been central to political life internationally. Today, despite
being hugely under-represented, women make up an average of 19.5%
of members of parliament worldwide; from a high of 42% in the Nordic
countries, 20.8% in Europe, 22.6% in the Americas to a low of 11.3%
in Arab states.9In many other key areas such as education and health,
access to jobs and livelihoods, women have made ‘unprecedented gains’
and more countries than ever now guarantee women and men equal
rights under the law in areas such as property ownership, inheritance,
and marriage. As noted by the World Development Report 2012:
‘In all, 136 countries now have explicit guarantees for the equality of
all citizens and non-discrimination between men and women in their
constitutions.’10
10
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
This progress has created a legal and political platform upon which the
women’s movement and its supporters can begin to translate the ideal
of equality into practical realities at family, community, national and
international levels.
A third important area related directly to democratic transition is that of
adult literacy and, again, there are grounds for considerable optimism
despite the ongoing challenge of achieving universal basic adult literacy
as is illustrated in Table 2 below. In his 1994 documentary series,
historian and journalist Gwynne Dyer argued that whenever literacy rates
in any given society reach over 50%, it then takes approximately three
generations for that society to become effectively democratic.11 This is all
the more so when a key emphasis is on the education of women and, in
particular young girls.
Over the past 20 years, both the adult literacy rate and gender parity have
improved significantly: the literacy rate grew from 76% in 1990 to 83%
in 2008 and the Gender Parity Index (GPI, see endnote 13) from 0.84 to
0.90 (see Figure 1)12. Progress was particularly significant in Northern
Africa, where the adult literacy rate increased by 20%, and in Eastern
and Southern Asia, with an increase of 15%. In Northern Africa and
Southern Asia less than half of all adults were literate in 1990, less than
in any other region. In 2008, the lowest literacy rates were recorded in
Southern Asia and sub-Saharan Africa, with 62% and 63%, respectively.
Nonetheless, sub-Saharan Africa managed to increase the share of adults
with basic reading and writing skills by 9% between 1990 and 2008. In
the remaining regions, the increase in the adult literacy rate over the past
two decades was as follows:
• Western Asia 11%
• South-Eastern Asia 9%
• Latin America and the Caribbean 7%
• Oceania 4%
11
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
• CIS 1%
• Developed regions 0.3%.
The rate of increase in the developed regions and in the CIS countries
was negligible because both regions had already reached near-universal
adult literacy in 1990. Literacy rates are also high in Eastern Asia, SouthEastern Asia, and Latin America and the Caribbean; in all three regions
more than 9 out of 10 adults are able to read and write.
More importantly, gender parity also improved in all regions, with
Northern Africa again showing the biggest increase, from 0.57 in 1990
to 0.76 in 2008, followed by Eastern Asia and Southern Asia, where the
GPI increased by 0.14 in the same period.13 In spite of this Southern
Asia continues to exhibit relatively high gender disparity in adult literacy,
with a GPI of 0.70. The UNESCO Institute of Statistics reports similar
disparities in sub-Saharan Africa (0.75) and Northern Africa (0.76).14
Despite this trend, in 2008, 796 million adults aged 15 years or older 17% of all adults worldwide - still lacked basic reading and writing skills
and 64% of them were women.
The diagram opposite: Adult literacy rate and gender parity, 1990-2008
12
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
Figure 1: Adult literacy rate and gender parity, 1990-2008
13
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Table 2: Adult literacy rate and gender parity, 1990/2008�
Region
Developed regions
CIS
Eastern Asia
South-Eastern Asia
Southern Asia
Western Asia
Northern Africa
Sub-Saharan Africa
Latin America and
the Caribbean
Oceania
World
Adult Literacy Rate 1990 and 2008
Total
Male
Female
98.7
99
98.4
99
99.2
98.9
98.1
99.4
97.1
99.5
99.7
99.4
78.9
87.7
69.7
93.8
96.8
90.7
84.8
90.0
80.0
91.9
94.5
89.5
47.3
60.1
33.5
61.9
73.2
50.9
73.8
84.2
62.6
84.5
91.5
76.9
47.8
60.8
34.6
67.3
76.7
58.1
53.1
63.7
43.1
62.5
71.6
53.6
84.4
85.9
82.8
91.0
91.9
90.3
62.9
68.9
56.5
66.4
70.2
62.6
75.7
82.2
69.2
83.4
88.2
78.9
GPI
0.99
1.00
0.98
1.00
0.80
0.94
0.89
0.95
0.56
0.70
0.74
0.84
0.57
0.76
0.68
0.75
0.96
0.98
0.82
0.89
0.84
0.90
Recent trends and patterns – grounds for reservations
Despite the positive evidence presented above, the 2009 Freedom in the World
survey reported continued erosion of freedom worldwide, with setbacks in
Latin America, Africa, the former Soviet Union, and the Middle East.16
The number of electoral democracies has now decreased every year since
2005 and while ‘free’ countries still outnumber those that are ‘not free’,
the current 116 ‘free’ is the lowest number of such regimes since 1995. The
ending of the Cold War and the subsequent collapse of the communist
14
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
regimes appeared to demonstrate the failure of the only alternative to
liberal democracy. Despite the failure of many post-communist regimes
to sustain the transition to democracy, liberal democracy was seen as
the only sustainable political system and constituted the ‘end point of
mankind’s ideological evolution’17 although recent economic trends have,
once again, highlighted the weaknesses of such liberal democracies. In
parallel, the early 1970’s had witnessed significant growth in locallydriven demands for democracy and for democratic reforms in developing
countries in the context of corrupt and ineffective post-colonial regimes.
This trend began with the collapse of dictatorships in Portugal, Spain,
and Greece; the growth of the EEC and EU; the replacement of military
and one-party regimes in Latin America; the emergence of, albeit limited
but increasingly effective democracy in many African states.
According to Freedom House (2009) in 1975 the number of countries that
were ‘not free’ exceeded those that were ‘free’ by 50% but by 1985 the
growth in ‘free’ countries meant that they outnumbered the ‘not free’ and
by 2007 twice as many countries were ‘free’ as were ‘not free’.18 Many
countries that are ‘formally’ democratic (with contested elections) are
characterised by weak or poor government, high crime rates, widespread
government corruption, seriously inadequate and mismanaged social
services, lack of transparency and high levels of unaccountability and
were thus characterised by Fareed Zakaria as ‘illiberal democracies’.19
Many ‘illiberal’ democracies have remained so for over a decade with little
sign of improvement in rights, security, stability, and economic growth
and with signs of a slowing down or reversal of democratisation. States
such as Ethiopia, Zimbabwe, Venezuela and Thailand, have experienced
the curtailment of democratic institutions, the spread of one-party rule
and increasingly authoritarian government.
Democratic transitions: some key challenges
The postulated benefits of democracy in transitional societies has been
effectively summarised by Goldstone as follows:20
• Democracy would increase democratic accountability; enhance public
15
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
engagement; improve the policy environment and reduce corruption
(or, at least its more traditional as distinct from modern forms)
• It would increasingly provide legitimacy to governments that had
previously relied on a combination of coercion and patronage
• Popular participation in inclusive regimes would help end
discrimination, the base of power for previous regional, ethnic or
religious struggles
• History suggested that democratic states (even those with diverse
historical and cultural backgrounds) did not engage in warfare against
other democratic states; this would reduce international conflicts21
• Democratic regimes are more likely to invest in public goods and
services that benefit the broader population rather than a privileged
elite; in turn, this would increase economic growth, reduce
vulnerability and potentially inequality
• The promotion of women’s rights and human rights are associated
with democracy thus improving the general climate of human security
• More recently, in the wake of US interventionism in Iraq and
Afghanistan, the appeal of democratically elected government would
help diminish the appeal of ‘terrorist’ groups.
However, the above cited perceived benefits of democracy are characterised
by a number of significant weaknesses and internal contradictions
as noted by a wide variety of authors.22 One of the key political and
academic debates inevitably revolves around what precisely constitutes
democracy and democratic leadership – the literature remains significantly
divided. One major school of thought (and policy) highlights a simple
and narrow definition of democracy and focuses essentially (but by no
means exclusively as the literature debates highlight) on the electoral
process arguing that a democracy is a country in which the top political
leadership and most legislators are chosen by competitive elections open
to all (or nearly all) adult citizens.23 In this view, the key challenge in
effecting the transition to democracy is the organising of ‘free and fair
democratic elections’ and the acceptance of a constitution.
16
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
An alternative school of thought emphasises a more complex and
broader definition with a strong focus on the functionality of democratic
institutions; not just competitive elections but, inter-alia freedom of speech
and assembly plus transparency, accountability, representativeness,
political equality, rule of law, a vibrant and independent civil society,
institutionalised political parties, free media, etc.24 However, this broader
definition, while compelling offers another set of challenges and debates;
what precisely constitutes the ‘rule of law’ or a ‘vibrant civil society’?
This also implies that if it is possible to ‘measure’ democracy (as does
Freedom House). Second, even if effective measurement is possible, at
what point do we define a state as ‘free and democratic’ or ‘not free and
undemocratic’?
The task of quantifying democracy (e.g. Freedom House or Polity
IV25) poses yet additional difficulties; for example, it is relatively easy
to classify states where the prime of all elements of democracy are
visible or where they are lacking but this is not particularly helpful in
transitional circumstances and contexts. What elements in the definition
and measurement should be given greater weight or importance – an
independent and autonomous judiciary or an effective and responsive
legislature; the scope of electoral participation or limitations on executive
power; political equality or social equality in access to services etc.; how
much weight should be attached to a functioning and representative civil
society? These are just some of the intractable debates and challenges.
Democracy: a role for civil society?
Much of the literature and debate on democracy highlights the
constitutional, legal, political and executive components and frequently
views that issue of effective civil society engagement as a secondary
factor. Given my own background in civil society (and, particularly in its
educational role), I want to outline some of the key parameters of a role
for civil society in democratic transition.26
The literature on the nature and potential role of civil society has increased
dramatically in recent decades with a number of studies outlining a
17
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
number of typologies and frameworks.27 These authors identify a number
of common features that characterise the approach, underlying values
and political, social and development roles of civil society organisations
including:
• Providing varying degrees of protection for citizens - this basic
function of civil society can encompass the literal protection of the
lives, freedom and property of individuals and communities against
lives, freedom, and property against attacks and the abuse of power
by the state or other authorities.
• Monitoring and accountability - this role consists of monitoring and
highlighting the activities and behaviour of central or local powers,
state apparatuses, and government in general, especially in the
context of holding them accountable. Such monitoring can refer to
human rights, public spending, corruption, health, education etc. and
highlights the principle of the separation of powers.
• Advocacy and public communication– a key test of the effectiveness
of civil society is its ability to represent and articulate the interests
and needs of groups in society, particularly those of marginalised,
excluded or silenced groups. In parallel with this role is the capacity
and opportunity to use diverse means of communication in order to
bring such interests and needs to the public arena, thereby providing a
voice for the often voiceless and consequently fuelling and stimulating
public debate. This role has greatly increased in recent decades in
areas such as environmental concerns, issue specific campaigns (e.g.
landmines) and, crucially, women’s rights.
• Education or socialisation – traditionally, civil society in its diversity
has contributed significantly to the formation and development (as
well as the practice of) democratic values and dispositions in the public
at large. Values such as human dignity, human rights, equality, social
justice, tolerance, reconciliation etc. remain central to the ethos and
agenda of civil society. In this way, democracy is ensured not only by
legal institutions but also by dispositions and habits of society at large.
18
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
• Building community – civil society at its best builds social capital,
strengthens bonds across society, helps reduce social tensions and
build social cohesion.
• Facilitating dialogue and, oftentimes, mediation between citizens
and the state – independent civil society (and, more specifically its
constituent organisations play the role of balancing (and negotiating
with) the power of the state and its representative structures and
individuals at various levels.
• Service delivery – civil society has increasingly (and controversially)28
increased its role in service delivery, either on behalf of, or in place
of, the state in areas such as shelter, health, education and human
development. This has occurred in very different circumstances and
contexts where the state can be either strong or weak.
In conclusion, it is worth noting the comment by Amartya Sen (whose
work has deeply shaped our thinking and assessment of freedom) who
insisted that the ‘atrocity of poverty’ will not correct itself:
‘Quiet acceptance – by the victims and by others – of the inability of a
great many people to achieve minimally effective capabilities and to have
basic substantive freedoms acts as a huge barrier to social change. And so
does the absence of public outrage at the terrible helplessness of millions
of people…We have to see how the actions and inactions of a great many
persons together lead to this social evil, and how a change of our priorities
– our policies, our institutions, our individual and joint actions – can help
to eliminate the atrocity of poverty.’29
WVW
19
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
(Endnotes)
1
2
Charbonneau and Nichols, Reuters, March 27, 2012
Reuters, April 10, 2012
3
Puddington, A. (2012): Freedom in the World 2012: The Arab Uprisings
and their Global Repercussions, Washington, Freedom House
4
Karatnycky, A. (2000): A Century of Progress, Journal of Democracy,
11.1, 187-200; Goldstone, J. (2010): Representational Models and Democratic
Transitions in Fragile and Post-Conflict States; World Development Report
Background Paper, World Bank
5
Power, S. (2002): A Problem from Hell: America in the Age of Genocide,
New York, Basic Books; Human Security Project (2010): Human Security Report
2009/2010: The Causes of Peace and the Shrinking Costs of War, Vancouver
6
Karatnycky, A. (2000)
7
http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/2011/press.
html
8
UNDP (1995) Human Development Report: Gender and Human
Development, New York, Oxford University Press: 1
9
InterParliamentary Union, December 2011 figures, http://www.ipu.
org/wmn-e/world.htm
10
World Bank 2012 World Development Report: Gender Equality and
Development, Washington
11
Dyer, G. (1994): The Human Race: Is the western model of global
development sustainable in a finite environment? Pennsylvania, Bullfrog Films
12
UNDP (1995)
13
The Gender Parity Index (GPI) measures the ratio of female over
male literacy rates; a GPI between 0.97 and 1.03 is usually considered gender
parity. At GPI values below 1, women are disadvantaged and at GPI values
above 1, men are disadvantaged. If a country or region reaches universal
literacy, with male and female literacy rates of 100%, the GPI would equal 1
by definition. This is the case in the developed regions and in the countries of
the Commonwealth of Independent States, both of which are near universal
literacy.
14
Source: UNESCO Institute for Statistics, Data Centre, September 2010,
see http://huebler.blogspot.com/2010/09/lit.html
20
Colm Regan, Democratic Transitions: Trends, Patterns, Challenges
15
16
ibid.
Freedom House (2009) Freedom in the World, Washington,
see http://www.freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world/freedom-world-2009
17
Fukuyama, F. (1992): The End of History and the Last man, London,
Penguin
18
There is very considerable debate as to the underlying values,
definition and measurement of ‘free’ and ‘not free’ states according to Freedom
House which itself has been the subject of significant criticism for its close
association with US interests and agendas in particular regions worldwide; for
its assessment of ‘freedom’ in countries such as Cuba and Russia and for its
assessment and analysis of key aspects of Islam (for a useful summary, see
http://www.un.org/News/Press/docs/2001/ngo432.doc.htm)
19
Zakaria, F. (1997): The Rise of Illiberal democracies, Foreign Affairs,
November/December
20
Goldstone (2010), pp 2-3
21
on this see Human Security Report 2009/2010
22
see, for example, Dahl, R. (1989): Democracy and Its Critics, New
Haven, Yale University Press; Korten, D. (1990): Getting to the 21st Century:
Voluntary Action and the Global Agenda, Virginia, Kumarian Press; Sen, A.
(1999): Development as Freedom, New York, Alfred A. Knopf; Sen, A. (2009):
The Idea of Justice, London, Allen Lane
23
see, for example, Schumpeter, J. (1975): Capitalism, Socialism, and
Democracy, New York, Harper; Huntington, S. (1991): The Third Wave.
Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century, Norman, University of Oklahoma
Press; Sartori, G. (1995): How Far Can Free Government Travel?, Journal of
Democracy 6, 3, pp. 101-111; Dahl (1989); Przeworski, A. et al. (2000): Democracy
and Development, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press
24
see, for example, Sen, A. (1999): Development as Freedom, Oxford
University Press; Held, D. (2006): Models of Democracy, London, Polity Press;
Freedom House (2009); Diamond, L. and Morlino, L. (eds., 2005): Assessing the
Quality of Democracy, Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University
25
Polity IV is the latest version of the most widely used data resource
for studying democracy and regime change, it is a project of the Vienna-based
21
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Center for Systemic Peace,
see http://systemicpeace.org/polity/polity4.htm
26
These observations are made principally in the context of over
a decade of engagement in the peace process in Northern Ireland where
a seriously truncated role for civil society gave primacy to the formal,
institutionalised political process rather than to the broader societal peace
process have generated a legacy of significant difficulties as regards areas such
as, for example, implementing a Bill of Rights (an integral and legal component
of the transition process in Northern Ireland).
27
see, for example Korten (1990); Yankelovich, D. (1991): Coming to
Public Judgment: Making Democracy Work in a Complex World, Syracuse
University Press; Edwards (2004); Paffenholz, T. (ed. 2010): Civil Society and
Peacebuilding: A Critical Assessment, Lynne Rienner, Boulder
28
see Regan, C. (2012, forthcoming): Too much problem solving and
not enough mischief making. Community Development in Ireland: issues and
challenges, Africanus 42:1
29
Amartya Sen, Preface in: Green, D. (2008): From Poverty to Power,
Oxfam International
22
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy:
Some reflections
Omar Grech
O
ne of the many issues that arose in the context of the uprisings in
North Africa refers to the relationship between human rights and
democracy. It was suggested during and immediately after the uprisings
that the authoritarian regimes that were displaced were not representative
of the peoples over which they governed. The new dispensations that
were to be established should follow the principles of representative
government, democracy and human rights. However, the relationship
between these concepts is not as straight forward as is, sometimes,
imagined.
The nature of representative government is difficult to define precisely and
the relation between such government and democracy is a complex one.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights seems to imply that all that is
required in terms of representational rights is for all citizens to have the
“right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through
freely chosen representatives.”1 In terms of democracy it states that “the
will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government; this
will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections which shall be
by universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret vote or by
equivalent free voting procedures.”
Article 25 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
(ICCPR) essentially reiterates the right to take part in public life and
the right to vote and to be elected in elections. The basic requisites for
these elections according to this provision are that they be genuine,
periodic, based on universal and equal suffrage and also that they be
held by secret ballot. This right to political participation and right to
political representation are held, like all the rights included in the ICCPR
(except for self-determination), by individuals. Thus neither minorities
-of whatever configuration- nor indeed other collectivities have political
23
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
rights in terms of the Universal Declaration or the ICCPR. It is only the
individual members of a minority or collectivity who possess these rights
while it is clear that membership of such a minority should in no way
impede the exercise of these rights. Hence if a state allows all its adult
citizens, without distinction of any kind, full and unfettered exercise of
the right to vote in free elections and the right to stand for office in such
elections, that state would be fulfilling the requirements of the Universal
Declaration and the ICCPR.
Thus there seems to be no clearly established right in international law
to a minority (be it social, religious, ethnic, racial or any other) having a
representation in government or even in legislative assemblies, although
in discussions on the nature of democracy it has been argued that it
is important for different sectors of society to have adequate political
representation. In terms of the nature of democratic models of governance
the most often assumed paradigm is that of majority rule. This has been
the case since the earliest manifestations of democracy in ancient Greece.
Decisions in democratic Greek city-states were taken on the basis that
each citizen had one vote and that the will of the majority should prevail.
In describing (unflatteringly) the democratic model Aristotle stated that
“whatever the majority decides is final and constitutes justice”2. This
conception of democratic decision making clearly leaves the minority
unprotected from the excesses of the majority. This risk is higher in
polarised societies were tension or animosity exist between the majority
and minority groups. And it is a risk which has long been recognised. The
Roman Republic for instance recognised the importance of institutions
which were inclusive of all the main sectors of society; in particular
republican Rome was concerned with its two major constituencies: the
common people (plebeians) and the aristocracy (the patricians) and
eventually fashioned its institutions to accommodate the interests of both.
David Held in his comprehensive overview of democratic models refers
to a number of concerns raised by different thinkers on the potential
risks posed by the majoritarian basis of democratic rule. In this vein,
Held refers to Madison’s critique of what he terms pure democracy (as
practised in ancient Greece) and its propensity to be “intolerant, unjust
and unstable”3. In pure democracies, according to Madison, “a common
24
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
passion or interest, felt by the majority of citizens generally shapes political
judgments, policies and actions” and furthermore the immediate nature of
pure democracy means that there was no check on the sufferings that can
be imposed on weaker parties4. Madison suggested that a large electoral
body and representational politics as opposed to direct democracy were
tools that would overcome the dangers of the ‘tyranny of the majority’.
The great advocate of liberal democracy John Stuart Mill also recognised
the potential dangers of the tyrannous majority operating within a
democratic context and thus he conceived of a number of basic liberties
pertaining to individuals which could not be denied or overridden by
majority rule. In particular Mill considered freedom of speech, freedom
of the press and freedom of assembly as important protections for the
individuals and minorities against the excesses of the majority. Mill
believed that these freedoms together with representative democracy5
that controlled and monitored a competent bureaucracy would guarantee
the benefits of democratic governance while avoiding its excesses.
Admittedly Mill’s conception of fundamental freedoms was limited to
a few liberties (of property, expression and association). However his
emphasis on liberties which could not be overridden by government
provides an essential requirement for democratic governance that does
not prejudice the basic rights of individuals who do not form part of
the majority. In this context it could be argued that Mill was essentially
following Locke’s general conception that “legitimate government based
on consent, in which the majority rules but may not violate people’s
fundamental rights.”6 The fundamental rights Locke was referring to were
the right to life, liberty and property. It is worth highlighting that Locke’s
and Mill’s rights even when amplified by the advent of the International
Bill of Rights were not intended to provide political representation in
government or in the legislative to minority groupings.
The political representation of minority groups remained a matter for
states to regulate. In some jurisdictions different minorities are given
quotas in parliament while in others, due to the concentration of a
minority in a particular area, it acquired parliamentary representation in
25
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
competition with other groups. The problem of minorities and political
representation is of special salience where political parties are organised
around ethnic, religious or linguistic lines. In such scenarios citizens vote
their caste rather than casting their vote7. This means that unless there
are significant demographic shifts the likelihood is that a political party
representing the majority ethnic/linguistic/religious group will maintain
a permanent monopoly over government. Thus one-party rule may come
about as a result of democratic governance.
The limits of majoritarian democratic systems in terms of the danger of a
tyrannous majority were dealt with, to an extent, by classical pluralism.
This school of thought claims that in democracies decision making
is based on the mediation of different interests pursued by a number
of diverse groups rather than on majority-decision making. The key
aspect of this school of thought focuses on the following characteristics
of democratic states, namely that there exist “multiple power-centres,
diverse and fragmented interests, the marked propensity of one group to
offset the power of another, a ‘transcendent’ consensus which bounds
state and society, the state as judge and arbitrator between factions.”8
The idea of the pluralist democratic state is that in any given society there
exist multiple interest groups which vie with each other to shape public
policy and that governments have to mediate these different interests.
Furthermore individuals usually “enjoy multiple memberships among
groups with diverse –and even incompatible- interests” which means
that each group will normally remain too weak and divided to possess
excessive power. 9
Nevertheless in states where there is a strong ethnic/religious/linguisticbased identity the normal patterns of democratic governance described
by pluralists disintegrate. The power centres solidify around majority and
minority identities and individuals tend to think in items of monochromatic
identities rather than multiple ones. In such states (Northern Ireland or
Lebanon are examples thereof) decision making does not conform to the
pluralist conception of democratic governance.
In the context of states deeply divided along ethnic/religious/linguistic
26
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
lines the importance of guarding against the ‘tyrannous majority’ is even
more salient as the minority/ies is/are likely to interpret all decisions
taken by the majority from a sectarian perspective. Thus all decisions
taken by the majority representatives (in parliament and in government)
are usually interpreted as ‘attacks’ on the minority communities even
where no sectarian motivation animated the majority decision-makers.
Within such a scenario attempts at mitigating the impact of a ‘tyrannous
majority’ has attracted two major approaches; one revolves around an
involvement of the minority in government while the other maintains the
simple majoritarian democratic model with strong minority guarantees in
the form of constitutionally protected rights.
The concept of involving, in a structured manner, minorities in
governance through the proportional allocation of seats in parliament
and in government is referred to in contemporary democratic discourse as
consociationalism and is particularly associated with the work of Arend
Lijphart10. In consociational systems, power is shared among the various
groups that obtain parliamentary representation and government is not
conducted on the basis of a simple parliamentary majority. Lijphart argues
that while most people associate democracy with majoritarian systems
there are other systems which he refers to as consensus democracies11.
In fact, Lijphart suggests that in heterogeneous societies, especially those
within which there are deep fissures along ethnic, religious, linguistic
or other lines, majoritarian rule is likely to be dangerous. Within such
societies “majority rule is not only undemocratic but also dangerous,
because minorities that are continually denied access to power will feel
excluded and discriminated against and they may lose allegiance to the
regime... In the most deeply divided societies, like Northern Ireland,
majority rule spells majority dictatorship and civil strife rather than
democracy.”12
The consensus or consociational model attempts to avoid the dangers
that majoritarianism poses in deeply divided societies by focusing on
inclusiveness. In the consensus model executive power is not concentrated
in the hands of the majority but is instead shared and dispersed. The most
evident feature of the consensus model is that the executive is formed not
27
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
by the majority but by all or most of the important parties in a broad
coalition. This consensus model is adopted in a number of jurisdictions
both via informal agreements (such as the case in Switzerland) as well
as through formal constitutional arrangements (such as is the case in
Belgium and Northern Ireland). In the context of minority protection
the consensus model offers not only a passive protection of their key
interests by the state but an active involvement by the minority in
shaping the policies by which they are to be governed and in this sense a
role in shaping their own future.13 Conversely, divided societies adopting
the majoritarian system may offer the minority rights and guarantees
as protection against any encroachment against the minority’s most
fundamental needs and interests.
Minority rights and guarantees
Numerous definitions of minorities may be found in the literature but a
definition which has been widely used is the definition drafted by the UN
Special-Rapporteur Capotorti who defines minorities as:
“a group numerically inferior to the rest of the population of a State, in
a non-dominant position, whose members -being nationals of the Statepossess ethnic, religious or linguistic characteristics differing from those of
the rest of the population and show, if only implicitly, a sense of solidarity,
directed towards preserving their culture, traditions, religion or language.”14
Such minorities are, and have been, an inevitable characteristic of most
states. States are rarely constituted of mono-ethnic, mono-religious and
mono-linguistic communities. While a few states may be so constituted,
most states contain within their borders minorities as defined by Capotorti.
From an international law point of view, the concern with such minorities
was one of the earliest indicators of a shift in international law from a
purely state-centric legal system to a legal system concerned with entities
other than states. In fact most legal scholars identify the post-World War
One creation of a minorities’ regime as prefiguring the human rights era
that was eventually ushered by the end of the Second World War.
The essential characteristics of the legal framework for the protection of
28
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
minorities that was put in place in the aftermath of World War One was
constructed on the basis of a series of treaties between the victorious
powers and a number of European states which contained within their
borders numerically significant minorities. The post-war minorities’
regime however was confined to Europe (except for the inclusion of Iraq)
and focused essentially on Central and Eastern Europe (including the
Balkans).15 The system for the protection of minorities was predicated
on two principles: that of ensuring equality and that of protecting
peculiarities. This was confirmed by the Permanent Court of International
Justice in the Minority Schools in Albania case of 1935. It stated that the
purpose of the system was to secure for minorities “the possibility of
living peaceably...while at the same time preserving the characteristics
which distinguish them from the majority”. 16 The Court then proceeded
to explain that in order for this purpose to be achieved what was required
was:
“first...to ensure that nationals belonging to racial, religious or linguistic
minorities shall be placed in every respect on a footing of perfect equality
with the other nationals of the State...second...to ensure for the minority
elements suitable means for the preservation of their racial peculiarities,
their traditions, and their national characteristics.”17
The system for the protection of minorities disintegrated with the
advent of the Second World War and in the post-war era the attention
of international law shifted onto the broader concept of individual
human rights. This is evidenced in the UN Charter where human rights
are referred to abundantly whereas the concept of minority is absent.
The Charter however does refer to the principles of equality and nondiscrimination which were highlighted above as an essential element of
minority protection. Equally there is no reference to minority rights within
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and it has been suggested
that this omission is unsurprising in the post-war context given that “to
a majority of States, individualistic human rights without any special
concession to particular groups of society seemed a sensible, modern,
and democratic programme”18. The only concession to minority rights
in the early history of the UN was a call, made in a General Assembly
29
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Resolution adopted together with the Universal Declaration, for the
“thorough study of the problem of minorities”19.
The emphasis on individual rights as opposed to group rights seemed
to be the right way forward given the perceived failure of the minority
rights regimes established in the wake of World War One. While it may
be argued that a basic ‘right to existence’ for national, ethnic, racial and
religious groups was affirmed through the 1948 Genocide Convention,
the same convention did not protect such groups from ‘cultural
destruction’ but only from ‘physical destruction’. Thus the post-war
legal infrastructure while guaranteeing physical existence for certain
groups did not protect their right to cultural existence or more broadly
their ‘right to identity’. The emphasis was on equal treatment and nondiscrimination; the protection of peculiarities went on the back-burner
within the international community.
Eventually though there was a reappraisal of this position and the necessity
for both individual rights as well as group rights became apparent. This
reappraisal is evidenced in the inclusion of a minority rights clause in the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. In this context Article
27 of the Covenant is the relevant provision which is “the conventional
and customary law recognising” the rights of minorities in international
law:
“In those States in which ethnic, religious or linguistic minorities exist,
persons belonging to such minorities shall not be denied the right, in
community with the other members of their group, to enjoy their own
culture, to profess and practise their own religion, or to use their own
language.”
This provision seeks to protect the cultural life of ethnic, religious and
linguistic minorities which even in democratic states may be at risk of
assimilation into the majority culture. It also attempts to realise the ‘right
to identity’ which John Burton identifies, in its human needs form, as
an essential need which when denied may lead to violent conflict. The
importance of identity in fuelling conflict is clearly stated by Burton:
30
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
“Needs that are frustrated by institutions and norms require satisfaction.
They will be pursued in one way or another. These needs would seem
to be even more fundamental than food and shelter... Denial by society
of recognition and identity would lead, at all social levels, to alternative
behaviours designed to satisfy such needs, be it ethnic wars, street gangs
or domestic violence.”20
The issue of minority protection is, in fact linked to both self-determination
and political representation. In states where minorities participate in
government through consensus models of democracy or are allowed a
degree of internal self-determination through federal structures or other
forms of decentralisation, minorities may have a modicum of decision
making powers and control over aspects of governance. However
minorities in centralised states, where societies are sharply divided
along ethnic, linguistic, religious or other fissures, may lack any form
of effective political representation that translates in some form of
decision making powers. In the latter scenario, the adoption of national
democratic and electoral models based on a winner-takes-all concept
may permanently exclude a minority from participation in government.
An excellent example of such a state was pre-direct rule Northern Ireland
where the Unionist Party governed uninterruptedly for five decades while
the minority community remained in opposition throughout. Minorities,
barred from exercising internal self-determination, within a centralised
state and excluded from decision making processes are likely to interpret
this exclusion as an attack on their identity. In these societies which
follow a majoritarian electoral system where citizens vote along sectarian
lines the decisions of the elected government are likely to be interpreted
(rightly or wrongly) through a prism of discrimination. Furthermore, once
a democratic model is being maintained and followed the governments in
these societies can claim a certain moral legitimacy. In these cases minority
rights in the form of equality legislation and protection of peculiarities are
the essential and unique guarantees to ensure they retain their identity
and are not subject to discrimination at the state or local level.
In the context of democratic transitions some of the above reflections may
be useful to consider in determining ways forward. In Tunisia following
31
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
the relative success of Nhadha in the elections to the constituent assembly
concerns were expressed by secular civil society (in particular women’s
groups) on the potential prejudicial impact on them of Nhadha’s policies.
A strong dose of entrenched, constitutionally protected rights could prove
useful in such a context to allay fears and ensure that acquired rights
are not negated. In the case of Libya where tribal divisions seem to be
emerging in the post-Ghaddafi era, thoughts about consensus models
of democracy may be useful to ensure an inclusive democratic process.
The overriding principle in every case should be that of limiting the
possibilities of majorities riding rough-shod over minorities of whatever
hue and composition. If democratic transitions are to be successful they
have to provide stable, accountable and efficient government but also
guarantee the internationally recognised rights of individuals and groups.
Should the latter be ignored the risk of a cyclical resort to uprisings and
revolutions is greatly increased.
WVW
(Endnotes)
1
Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article 21
2
Aristotle (1983): The Politics, Harmondsworth, Penguin, p. 362
3
Held, D. (1996): Models of Democracy, Polity Press, p. 89
4
ibid.
5
Held explores the limits of Mill’s representative government which is
however not immediately relevant for this study.
32
Omar Grech, Human Rights, Political Representation and Democracy
6
Sandel, M. (2007): Justice: A Reader, Oxford University Press, p. 83
7
p. 58
Darbly, J. (1997): Scorpions in a Bottle, Minority Rights Publications,
8
Held (1996), p. 204
9
ibid.
10
Lijphart himself states that he merely described systems which
political practitioners had developed over the years. See Lijphart, A. (2004):
Constitutional Design for Divided Societies, Journal of Democracy, Vol. 15, no.
2, April
11
Lijphart, A. (1999): Patterns of Democracy, Yale University Press, p. 31
12
ibid. pp. 32-33
13
Incidentally such a politically active citizen is what the ancient
Athenian democracy required of its citizens.
14
Monograph 23 prepared by Special Rapporteur Capotorti towards his
Study on the Rights of Persons belonging to Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic
Minorities for the UN Sub-Commission on the Prevention of Discrimination and
Protection of Minorities, UN Doc E/CN.4/Sub.2/384/Add.1-7
15
The states which were included in the League of Nations’ minority
protection system were: Poland, Austria, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria,
Romania, Hungary, Greece, the Free City of Danzig, Albania, Lithuania, Latvia,
Estonia, Iraq, Turkey, the territory of Memel and the territory of Upper Silesia.
16
Permanent Court of International Justice, Advisory Opinion 26, PCIJ,
Ser.A./B., No.64, 1935
17
ibid.
18
Thornberry, (P.): International Law and the Rights of Minorities,
Clarendon Press, p. 137
19
G. A. Res 217 (III) C, UN Doc. A/RES/3/217 C (10 Dec. 1948)
20
Burton, J. W.: Conflict Resolution: The Human Dimension,
International Journal of Peace Studies, vol. 3. No.1, January available at http://
www.gmu.edu/programs/icar/ijps/vol3_1/burton.htm
33
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
Tom Lodge
Introduction
S
outh Africa’s democratic settlement is generally viewed as a
particularly successful transition from authoritarian government. The
settlement in 1994 did bring political violence to an end and it established
new institutions which have now been in place for nearly two decades.
This success was partly the outcome of fortuitous conditions – of good
luck, even. But it was also the product of the skills, capacities and
predispositions that the main parties in the settlement brought to the
negotiations. This paper will explore the developments and processes
that helped South African peacemaking. Subsequently it will address
political progress since the transition.
Background to the transition
Apartheid was a system of institutionalised racial discrimination in
which black South Africans were excluded from suffrage and normal
citizenship rights. It replaced an earlier more piecemeal system of racial
segregation in 1948. From its inception as a unitary state in 1910, white
minority governments had ruled South Africa. In 1948, the National
Party representing Afrikaans-speaking whites of Dutch descent formed
a government. The National Party would remain in power, winning
successive governments for the next four decades. However social
changes would increasingly present challenges to the power of the white
minority. By the 1950s South Africa’s economy was already substantially
industrialised and very rapid expansion of manufacturing growth drew
millions of black “Africans” into the industrial workforce. In 1973 mass
labour strikes presaged the formation of what would become a powerful
African trade union movement. In a key reform, African unions obtained
collective bargaining rights in 1981.
34
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
The main black political organisations including the African National
Congress (ANC) were suppressed in 1960. From 1984, though, the
government tried to broaden regime support by enfranchising Indian
and “coloured” minorities in a “tricameral” parliament, with separate
chambers for each racial group. For this reason the authorities relaxed
political restrictions to a degree. A United Democratic Front (UDF)
constituted itself and called for a boycott of the new parliament and built
an organised following in black townships. UDF leadership included many
ANC veterans and within the UDF a core group belonged to clandestine
ANC structures. The UDF assembled its mass following through a network
of hundreds of affiliated organisations, including trade unions, student
and youth groups, and residents’ associations or “civics” as they were
known. These bodies brought to the UDF a huge activist following, many
members of whom viewed themselves as supporters of the banned ANC.
The ANC itself, from1976, in conjunction with its allies in the South
African Communist Party had been directing a guerrilla insurgency from
its exile headquarters in Lusaka and from military bases in Angola. The
ANC’s guerrillas helped to inspire and prompt localised insurrections in
black “townships”. In late 1983, protests in townships against rent rises
led to violent confrontations between crowds and police. These localised
clashes escalated into nation-wide tumult. This prompted the deployment
of the army and the imposition of a state of emergency in which the
police detained 70,000 activists. As financial risk perceptions heightened,
in 1984 international banks withdrew loan facilities. The United States
and various European governments and the European Union imposed
(token) economic sanctions from 1987.
Meanwhile the South African Defence Force was increasingly deployed
outside South Africa in efforts to curtail support for the ANC in “FrontLine” African states, including Mozambique and Angola as well as in
defending South African controlled settler government in South-West
Africa (Namibia). In 1988 the South Africans lost air supremacy at
the battle of Cuito Cuanavale in Southern Angola in 1988 and army
chiefs began counselling withdrawal from South West Africa. With
encouragement from the United States and the Soviet Union a peace
35
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
settlement with Angola and Namibian independence was secured by 1990.
In this settlement, Namibian whites secured protection and reassurance
from a constitutionally entrenched bill of rights. Within white South
African politics, rifts had been widening within the Afrikaner community
as conservatives opposed government’s constitutional reforms and
other aspects of its liberalisation. To the left of the government, liberal
parliamentary opposition gathered support. In the 1987 elections the
Progressive Federal Party won votes among both English speaking and
Afrikaner whites as a consequence of business disaffection and dislike of
conscription.
The beginning of democratic transition
In 1987 unofficial and secret “talks about talks” started between South
African officials and the Lusaka-based ANC leadership. Ministerial level
contacts with the ANC’s imprisoned leader Nelson Mandela began in
1988. Meanwhile the ANC hosted visits from business groups and a range
of different social organisations.
These kinds of contacts continued despite disagreements within the ANC
and the Communist Party leadership between hard-line insurrectionists
and a pro-negotiations group led by Thabo Mbeki. Then in 1989 there was
a change of leadership in the government and National Party. PW Botha
was replaced by FW de Klerk. This reflected a shift in power relations
within government as Botha had close relations with military commanders
whereas de Klerk’s power base was within the party organisation. On 2nd
February 1990, De Klerk announced the release of Nelson Mandela and
other imprisoned leaders as well as the lifting of bans on the ANC, the
South African Communist Party and other prohibited organisations. The
Government was ready to negotiate a political settlement.
Why did De Klerk initiate transition? Several considerations prompted his
decision. Among National Party leaders there was a growing realisation
that sanctions and foreign credit restrictions would harm an economy
which had more or less stalled since 1980. In particular rising military
expenditure was a major concern. And while the ANC could be contained
36
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
militarily, the government had no hope of winning the kind of support
from black South Africans that would enable it to rule without coercion.
As well as these negative concerns De Klerk believed that the international
setting had changed favourably. The collapse of Communist governments
had ended key sources of the ANC’s foreign support. De Klerk believed
he would be negotiating with a weakened opponent from a position of
strength, bolstered by his command of a still intact administration and a still
functioning economy. There was also the government’s recent experience
of successfully negotiating a socially conservative “moderate” settlement
in Namibia. De Klerk and his cabinet allies were also encouraged by
the prospect of assembling a powerful coalition of white minority-based
parties and black conservative groupings, including the Zulu nationalist
Inkatha movement. In particular they perceived Inkatha as a potentially
effective rival to the ANC. This perception influenced their strategic aim
of securing a power sharing settlement in which whites would retain a
decisive role in government. Government negotiators would be influenced
by successful transitions from authoritarian governments elsewhere,
especially in Latin America.1
Government leaders also knew there was a growing sentiment within
the ANC to negotiate a political compromise. By 1989 top ANC officials
recognised they could not “escalate” military operations and indeed
the ANC was under pressure from its “Front-Line” allies in Southern
African governments.2 It had been compelled to move its soldiers out
of Angola in 1988. However, just as was the case with De Klerk, the
ANC’s principals were confident that they would be negotiating from a
position of strength. Opinion polls attested to its popularity and in the
UDF and the Congress of South African Trade Unions they could draw
upon an impressive organisational infrastructure. As importantly as these
pragmatic considerations there was the traditional “non-racialism” of ANC
leadership, an ideological predisposition bolstered through the ANC’s
alliance with the Communist Party. This sentiment inclined the senior
and older echelons to consider white South Africans as compatriots, not
settlers. Their own successful international diplomacy in the late 1980s
encouraged the officials who worked in Thabo Mbeki’s international
office to think they could secure goodwill from Western governments.
37
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Finally and very importantly, Nelson Mandela favoured a conciliatory
course, and given his moral stature within and outside South Africa his
views were decisive.
Negotiating democracy
What were the factors that contributed to the settlement?
Time was important. Reaching a sustainable agreement on all the issues
at stake needed lengthy bargaining which at certain moments would be
interrupted by trials of strength between the two main protagonists, the
government and the ANC. Formal negotiations when they began engaged
all political groups who were willing to be involved and establishing a
consensual constitutional dispensation was inevitably a very protracted
process. That there was still in place in 1990 a reasonably effective public
administration and economy that continued to function in a more or
less routine way, notwithstanding very high levels of labour militancy,
these were key pre-requisites for enabling a very long negotiation. They
represented conditions that make South Africa different from other
African transitions to democracy in the 1990s.
During the four years of transition, political power shifted decisively to
ANC. De Klerk lost control of sections of security forces who began to
play a “spoiler” role. Paradoxically, the violence resulting from the agent
provocateur actions of rogue soldiers weakened rather than strengthened
De Klerk’s resolve to defend issues which initially were considered by
certain National Party leaders as non-negotiable. “Rewards” for De Klerk’s
administration and its political supporters were also helpful. These
included De Klerk’s winning with Mandela of the Nobel Peace Prize, South
African readmission to international sports fixtures, as well as the lifting
of sanctions and credit restrictions. It is also likely that National Party
successes in recruiting a coloured and black base as well as consolidating
white support encouraged political optimism among party strategists. In
any case, by 1993, on both sides there was a new compulsion of urgency
to reaching settlement, the increasingly competitive violence between
black groups, principally between the ANC and Inkatha.
38
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
Meanwhile the ANC’s predispositions to compromise were certainly
strengthened by its success in winning international “recognition”
from conservative Western governments. Inside South Africa it rapidly
constructed an organised mass following, building upon the base
structures it inherited from the UDF. Between 1990 and 1994 the ANC
demonstrated impressive ability to both mobilise and restrain its own
following, repeatedly using “mass action” as a source of leverage during
critical points in negotiations. Aiding its organisational discipline was
the democratic centralist ethos it brought back with it from exile, a key
borrowing from its long association with the Communist Party. This
discipline was decisive in enabling ANC leaders to overcome both elite
and rank and file objections to the concessions it offered its adversary,
particularly after its decision in1992 to accept a phase of power-sharing
and other concessions to the white minority.
ANC’s negotiation skills were derived partly from trade unionist experience
of collective bargaining and ex-labour lawyers were conspicuous within
its negotiating team. Negotiators on the two main sides could draw upon
a battery of constitutional expertise generated by lively debates about
different constitutional options during the 1980s. Agreement was also
helped by the “constructive ambiguity” through which the terms of the
agreement were understood: each side could project its own different
interpretations of the settlement in ways that satisfied the expectations
of its supporters. Even so, the ANC needed to make a major concession
in deciding to moderate its economic plans and drop nationalisation of
major industries from its programme. Meanwhile, informal cooperation
began between the South African Defence Force (SADF) and Umkhonto3
commanders who began to work out the procedures through which the
various armed forces would be integrated. Less constructively, their
collaborations also included the fusion of smuggling operations and other
criminal activities.4 From 1992 a transitional authority was established
which among other functions would attempt to control of security forces
and, more successfully, regulate public broadcasting.
39
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
The 1994 settlement
So, what was agreed in 1994?
First of all, after elections there would be in place a power sharing
administration in which parties with over 5 per cent of the vote would
govern jointly for the first five years. National Party leaders hoped this
power sharing might become a permanent dispensation. Political parties
would participate in cabinet in proportion to their share of vote. National
Party leaders also believed that cabinet would operate through consensus.
No civil servants would lose jobs or pensions. Political parties would also
share positions in nine new provincial governments. In certain cases their
boundaries would coincide with those of the old ethnic homelands. In
certain of these new sub-national administrations white and colouredbased political parties had a prospect of winning majority shares of votes
as did the major ethnically constituted party, the Inkatha Freedom Party
(IFP).
The Bill of Rights in the 1994 “transitional” constitution would be
entrenched in a final constitution to be drafted by the two houses of
parliament in the aftermath of the founding election. These rights would
include the protection of property, an extensive list of secondary rights as
well as traditional civil liberties. Elections would be held under national
list proportional representation, in which parties would win seats in a
very close proportion to their share of the poll. In the first election all
residents and exiles could vote (including white immigrants who were
not nationals). An Independent Electoral Commission would organise
and evaluate the election. There would be an amnesty for politically
motivated crimes against human rights. The Defence Force and the
guerrilla armies would amalgamate and guerrilla commanders would join
the senior command echelon. There would be new national heraldry, a
new flag and a new anthem.
Implementation and democratic consolidation
The 1994 election produced acceptable results for the major protagonists
and resulted in a coalition government between the ANC, the NP
40
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
and Inkatha. The ANC won just under two thirds of the vote. Despite
irregularities, the elections were judged free and fair and the results
accorded with earlier opinion polling. As state president, Mandela placed
emphasis on symbolic reconciliation with whites, though the ANC,
contrary to the NP’s hopes, adopted a domineering position within cabinet.
The ANC took care to include whites, Indians and Coloured politicians
in leadership positions. There were successful local government elections
in 1996.
A Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was established in 1996,
inspired partly by similar undertakings in Latin America. Over three years
the TRC administered amnesty in which individuals would be offered
immunity from prosecution in return for full disclosure. The Commission
also undertook a national investigation of human rights crimes, conduced
partly through televised public hearings. Opinion polls suggested that
most South Africans considered the outcome fair and that the TRC’s
treatment of ANC and pro-government groups was even-handed.5 After
the adoption of the final constitution a new Constitutional Court was
established. The Court has been willing to rule against government
and is generally still considered to be free from executive interference.6
Meanwhile Nelson Mandela’s government launched a Reconstruction and
Development Programme which prioritised housing and various poverty
alleviation programmes. These only had limited effect, though, because
economic growth rose only slowly and unemployment remains very high
– between 25 and 28 per cent. Partly compensating for the persistence of
poverty and sharp social inequality was the expansion of a middle class,
as black South Africans took up managerial positions. Generous pension
inducements encourage early retirements from civil service created space
for vigorous affirmative action in the bureaucracy.
There were several key factors that helped to explain the success of
this transition and the subsequent regime stabilisation. This was a
“pacted” or closely bargained transition: a consequence of deal-making
between strong leadership groups with well organised political support.
Comparative experience suggests that these kinds of transitions are most
likely to result in stable democracies.7 Additionally, in comparison to many
41
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
developing countries, South Africa is economically advanced, has a large
middle class, a strong civil society, and a well institutionalised state. In
1994 South Africa had a “ready made” political party system – inherited
from white electoral politics and a well organised extra-parliamentary
opposition. Finally by 1994 – and in fact well before then – there was
general agreement about who belonged to the nation: all South Africans
were agreed that they were each other’s compatriots and there were no
seriously secessionist movements.
One party - dominant politics
However notwithstanding the positive achievements of the Mandela
administration, South African party politics were essentially a one party
dominant system. In the longer term might South Africa’s one party
dominant politics threaten democracy?
In South Africa as early as the late 1990s, analysts began to suggest
that the country’s politics were moving in an authoritarian direction.
Authoritarian dominant-party dynamics are signalled in several ways.
Increasingly inequitable electoral competition diminishes prospects of real
electoral challenge. Governing groups in degenerate one-party dominant
democracies treat parliamentary opponents with disdain. They deny
their opponents legitimacy while simultaneously claiming themselves to
embody the nation. More broadly, they may seek to curtail opposition
within civil society. In such settings opposition remains ineffectual and
fragmented. Meanwhile, power and decision-making become more
centralised. The party itself becomes bureaucratised and its internal
democratic procedures are stifled. Such regimes use patronage to extend
“hegemonic” control over public administration, in the process eroding
distinctions between party and state. Politically prompted usage of public
appointments and public resources may also facilitate more obvious kinds
of corruption and venality.8 Is this a fair description of developments in
South Africa since 1994?
It is true that the ANC has won large majorities in successive elections,
62.65% in 1994, 66.35% in 1999, 69.69% in 2004 and 65.90% in 2009.
42
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
These elections, though, have generally been judged to be free and fair,
and arguably in certain respects have become more so rather than less.
Most importantly, it has become progressively easier for candidates of
all parties to canvass voter support outside the areas where their core
supporters live. In 1994 there were “no go” areas in which canvassers
from certain parties were forcibly excluded by their competitors’ activists
and supporters. Northern Natal represented a no-go area for the ANC in
1994 as did Soweto for the Democrats in 1994. Such areas were much
less extensive in 1999. By 2004 each of the main parties were routinely
deploying door to door canvassers in the same neighbourhoods sometimes
at the same time. Over the four elections, electoral management by the
Independent Electoral Commission has become increasingly effective and
in 2009 more than two million new voters were added to the electorate
in an especially successful registration drive, especially among people
aged 20-29.9 All the available evidence suggests that voters are confident
about ballot secrecy10 as well as the integrity of the count; after 1994 the
electoral results have never been questioned seriously.11
The 2009 general election appeared to offer fresh prospects to opposition
parties. In 2007, the ANC’s internal leadership elections had resulted in
the replacement of Thabo Mbeki as party leader by his deputy, Jacob
Zuma. Mbeki was forced to resign as state president nine months
later. Mbeki’s deposition had been followed by what appeared to be a
significant breakaway from the ANC with the formation of a new party,
the Congress of the People Party (Cope). Cope initially seemed to be
garnering significant support in the ANC’s traditional heartland in the
Eastern Cape, taking over whole ANC branches. Meanwhile in 2009 the
Constitutional Court in a decision against the government authorised voting
rights for additional foreign residents provided they had registered inside
South Africa. This was a judgement that probably benefited the leading
opposition party, the Democratic Alliance. Access to the broadcasting
media actually improved for opposition parties in 2009 with new rules
for election broadcasting and if anything South African Broadcasting
Corporation (SABC) coverage of the 2009 poll was less biased in favour
of the ruling party than in 1999 and 2004. Indeed during the 2009 election
ANC leaders complained that the SABC Board was biased in favour of
43
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Zuma’s disaffected opponents, now campaigning in the new Congress
of the People Party (Cope). The prospect of losing support within its
political bases prompted the ANC to campaign aggressively in certain
areas. Ruling party speakers at mass meetings suggested that electoral
support would be rewarded with grants or other benefits – by implication,
therefore, disloyalty would be punished accordingly. Moreover in the runup to formal campaigning, observers noted an increased incidence of
“robust” electioneering including attacks on rival activists, particularly
targeting branch leaders of Cope.12 In general, though, the weight of the
evidence in 2009 suggested that the ANC continued to win its victories
mainly through persuasive campaigning rather than as a consequence of
coercion, threats or untoward inducements.
So, why is the ANC so successful in winning elections?
One possibility is that South African elections function as a “racial census”.
In other words, voters remain divided by historic racial divisions and they
identify particular parties as representing their own communal interests.
This may explain black voter reluctance to support white-led parties but a
diversity of black-led parties exist as well as the ANC. Outside KwaZuluNatal, none of these parties has succeeded in winning more than a
minority of votes, though Cope’s 13 per cent share of the vote in the
Eastern Cape did represent an unprecedented electoral shift away from
the ANC in its historic base. Certainly the ANC benefits from its prestige
as the longest established and best organised “national liberation”
movement. But ANC electoral campaigning usually emphasises issues
rather than racial identity or historical concerns.13 ANC campaigning is
driven by market research and is in other ways very sophisticated and
the party is able to spend much larger sums than any of its rivals during
elections for it continues to receive very generous donations both from
inside and even outside South Africa. Additionally, to the extent that
electoral success still depends upon face to face canvassing, the ANC
is able to field much larger numbers of canvassers than its competitors.
Several analysts attribute the scale of ANC victories to the quality of ANC
campaigning, especially with respect to its effect upon a growing segment
of undecided voters.14
44
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
The ANC may find favour with voters as a consequence of its record
in government. This is despite the continuation of very high levels of
poverty and rising unemployment. A rising proportion of the population
have benefitted from an expanding range of welfare benefits and other
entitlements and it is likely that these dependent groups are loyal
supporters. About 13 million South Africans at present receive such grants.
The firmest ANC support is in the countryside amongst two key groups
of such beneficiaries: pensioners and the youthful unemployed. Other
beneficiaries of government policies include a growing managerial and
administrative black middle class, officially nurtured through aggressively
implemented affirmative action. There is evident dissatisfaction with local
government service delivery but angry protests directed at errant ANC
municipal councillors have yet to translate into really decisive switches
of support to other parties by core ANC voters. Indeed, recent research
by Susan Booysen has found that protest tends to be concentrated in
vicinities with better than average delivery records, partly an effect of the
protest itself eliciting improvements in township facilities. As she argues:
“Protest in South Africa has overwhelmingly not been used in rejection
of (mostly ANC) elected government. Rather, protest has been used to
pressurise the elected ANC to do more, to deliver on election promises,
to replace local leaders, or as a minimum, it has been used to extract
promises and reassurances from ANC government.”15
In national elections, protest vicinities continue to deliver high polls for
the ANC. In local government the ANC replaces many of its councillors
after a single term, two thirds of them in 2011. Effectively the party
continues to deflect anger arising from disappointed expectations by
blaming shortcomings in its performance on lower echelon leadership.
It is worth noting though, that in each province except for KwaZulu-Natal,
the ANC lost votes in 2009. It also received significantly less support than
in 2006 in the 20011 local elections. To date, the ANC’s alliance with the
Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) has held and in general
government policies with respect to the labour market have responded
to trade union concerns. Finally, in the 2009 election, a popular (and
45
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
populist) leadership choice probably encouraged turn-out among the
ANC’s core supporters. Indeed the way in which a grass roots movement
within the ANC secured the victory of its own presidential candidate
probably helped to reinforce a tendency for ANC supporters who dislike
government policies to continue to try to oppose them within the ANC
itself or through its Alliance partners, COSATU and the Communist Party.
The electoral record, then, really does not offer conclusive evidence
to support the view that South African politics are becoming more
authoritarian. What about the ANC’s performance in government: does
it exhibit trends that signal the strengthening or weakening of liberal
democracy?
Again the evidence is mixed. Generally speaking, ANC leaders are
contemptuously dismissive towards the main opposition party, since 1999,
the Democratic Alliance (DA), the heir to a liberal parliamentary tradition
that dated back to the formation of the Progressive Party in 1959. The
Democrats emerged as the major opposition party in the 1999 election
taking over support from the National Party. The NP lost credibility
among white voters as a consequence of its evident ineffectualness as
the government’s junior coalition partner. It withdrew from the coalition
mid-term and F W de Klerk resigned as party leader, both developments
that weakened it further. After the 2004 election the NP dissolved and its
remaining leaders joined the ANC. When the DA won the Western Cape
provincial election in 2009 it displaced an ANC administration. In 2009,
local ANC spokesmen reacted to the DA’s victory with ill grace, warning
their followers that the new provincial government was led by racists and
calling upon their followers to make the region “ungovernable”16. Youth
Leaguers in certain localities seem to have understood this call as a licence
to organise systematic vandalisation of public facilities installed by the
new provincial administration.17 The ANC leadership’s treatment, though,
of some of the other smaller parties is more considerate and Thabo Mbeki
included people from the parties in both his cabinets, a practice that
Jacob Zuma maintained with his appointment of the all-white (Afrikaner)
Freedom Front’s Pieter Mulder to the Agriculture portfolio.
46
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
Of course, inclusion in coalitions may help to inhibit smaller parties
from playing an effective oversight role in parliament. Certain ANC
parliamentarians themselves have paid heavy penalties for their efforts
to hold the party leadership and the executive branch of government to
account. Andrew Feinstein’s enforced resignation in August 2001 after
his refusal to restrict the Select Committee on Public Accounts’ inquiry
into arms contracting was a case in point. The 1998 arms deal scandal
would also test the government’s respect for judicial autonomy and
Mbeki’s resignation from the presidency in 2008 followed Judge’s Chris
Nicholson’s censure of presidential pressure on the National Prosecutor’s
office. To be fair, though, as this episode demonstrated, judges remain
vigorously assertive and ready to rule against the government in their
judgements. Political leaders have generally responded to such judgements
calmly though executive compliance with such judgements has been very
uneven.
ANC politicians are more likely to react angrily to media criticism and
they appear to be convinced that the mainstream “commercial” press
is ideologically hostile and still largely controlled by “white” business.
This conviction has recently prompted the party to seek sponsors for a
loyal daily newspaper, New Age, launched in 2011 with support from the
Gupta family, friends of Jacob Zuma. More worryingly, new legislation
for the Protection of Information threatens to extend the scope of official
secrecy in such a way that newspapers might risk heavy penalties if
they investigate venal politicians. The law is now under scrutiny at the
Constitutional Court. In the end after various revisions, ANC drafters
were able to overcome objections to earlier versions within its own
parliamentary caucus. Earlier drafts of the Bill did arouse extensive protest
including opposition from key trade unionists and key ANC notables
including Tokyo Sexwale, Zuma’s housing minister. Indeed the ANC’s
Pallo Jordan criticised the Bill as the expression of a “fool’s errand”,
asking the question, “How did the ANC paint itself in a corner where
it can be portrayed as being opposed to press freedom”?18 Concern to
shield top politicians from corruption allegations may have received fresh
impetus with Jacob Zuma’s accession to office given his own notoriety
as a rent-seeker.
47
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
An additional source of sensitivity for the ANC leadership with respect
to corruption issues is the party’s reliance on bribes from prospective
contractors as a source of election campaign funding, at least in 1999.19 The
ANC now has its own investment corporation, Chancellor House, which
in 2010 obtained five mineral prospecting licenses from the Department
of Mineral Resources. As well as making its own investments, Chancellor
House now supplies the major channel for corporate contributions to the
ANC.
Official corruption in South Africa has remained at middling levels with
respect to international comparisons through the last decade, though South
Africa’s ranking in Transparency International Corruption Perception
Index (CPI) has fallen from 38th in 2001 to 64th in 2011. CPI ratings over
the years do not suggest that the extent and depth of corruption in South
African has altered significantly: the rating has hovered around 4.1, a
borderline rating in a scale in which 10 represents “highly clean” and 0 is
“highly corrupt”. In 2006 the International Crime Victim Survey included
South Africa in a study of 13 African countries. Respondents were asked
whether they had been asked by public officials for a bribe during the
previous year. Around a third of respondents had been asked for bribes in
Uganda, Mozambique and Nigeria. The frequencies of such experiences
were lowest in Botswana (0.8 per cent) and in South Africa (2.9 per cent),
a slightly higher proportion in South Africa than the 2 per cent a similar
survey had recorded in 1997.20 This kind of evidence indicates that petty
corruption is far from routine in South Africa’s public administration,
except perhaps in the police. Press reportage of corruption emphasises
venal behaviour by elected officials who control tendering at all levels of
government. In 2007 surveys of companies suggested that about a third
expected to bribe officials to secure contracts, only slightly lower than
the Sub-Saharan African average.21 In 2009 the Auditor General reported
that 2000 civil servants who held private interests had engaged in tender
abuse. Political appointments (“deployments”) on the boards of parastatal corporations as well as public contracting in favour of companies
directed by party notables help to blur lines between public and sectional
interests as well as extending organisational “hegemony”. In 2007 40 per
cent of the ANC’s MPs listed interests as company directors.22
48
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
These discouraging developments are offset to an extent by the
strengthening of the ANC’s political opposition, more visible commitment
to parliamentary oversight among certain ANC backbenchers as well as
the endurance within the ANC of an assertive rank and file.
In the last general election the Democratic Alliance obtained nearly 3
million votes, nearly 17 per cent of the total ballot and 67 out of the
136 opposition seats in parliament. It performed better still in the 2011
local elections, obtaining 24 per cent of the vote overall. More generally
opposition has consolidated into three main parties, the DA, Cope and
the IFP with the other parties obtaining progressively smaller vote shares
in successive elections. An IFP collapse following a leadership change
would probably see an exodus of IFP supporters to the ANC but the DA
can reasonably hope to be the main beneficiary of other parties’ declines.
Though the DA has invested effort in trying to recruit black members and
establish African township branches the 2009 election results confirmed
it had yet to win serious numbers of African votes even in the Western
Cape where it emerged as the most popular party among coloured voters.
DA officials themselves acknowledge that they have yet to take votes
from the ANC and that so far their gains have been at the expense of
smaller parties.23 In the Western Cape, its fortunes among Africans may
change, though, with the benefits of incumbency. In 2010 DA won several
key ward by-elections in which African support was decisive. In Grabouw
in the Western Cape and in Mkhondo in Mpumalanga in which the party
obtained 49 per cent and 52 per cent of the vote both represent fresh
evidence of the DA’s potential to attract black support. African voters are
a majority in Grabouw and make up almost all the electorate in Mkhondo.
However such polls feature very low turnout and by-elections tend to
attract protest voters who then vote differently in national contests.
A succession of local reports since the last general election of ANC
activists forcibly closing down DA meetings may represent a reversal of
previous trends towards a free environment for party competition. In
its local settings, ANC activism is increasingly organised by the Youth
League, a much better resourced and more locally assertive organisation
than was the case a few years ago. Whereas the ANC’s local organisers
49
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
were often people with trade union experience with consequent training
in democratic procedures this today is less likely. Typically today’s grass
roots activists are very young, politically inexperienced and often very
aggressive to opponents. In the Western Cape Youth Leaguers have
earned rebukes from their own party’s provincial leadership for their
intemperate language and volatile behaviour.24 Such censure has limited
effect; the Youth League has its own business interests and with financial
independence can risk displeasing the ANC’s elders. This year the national
executive finally decided to expel the Youth League’s president, Julius
Malema, finding fault not so much with his racist demagoguery directed
at whites but rather with his criticisms of the Botswana government as a
pro-Western “puppet regime”.
With respect to parliament, after the advent of Jacob Zuma’s government
the Standing Committee of Public Accounts (SCOPA) became much
more assertive in exercising oversight, insisting that cabinet ministers
appear before it and subjecting them to tough questioning.25 This
welcome development followed sharp criticism by a specially appointed
independent panel of SCOPA’s deference to the executive during the arms
contract investigation.26 In November 2010, however, several of the ANC’s
more assertive portfolio committee chairs were replaced in a reshuffle
of parliamentary posts with more compliant figures holding more junior
status in the party hierarchy.27
The third positive trend has been the continuing vigour of the ANC’s
own internal life. In degenerate dominant party systems the ruling party’s
internal procedures tend to become sclerotic. A range of fieldwork-based
studies conducted between 2003 and 2007 attested to the ANC’s retention
of an active membership structure organised into lively branches.28 These
studies were undertaken around Johannesburg and may not have been
altogether representative. The ANC’s own internal documents suggest
that the quality of branch life is very uneven. For example the 2010
Secretary-General’s report noted a 125,000 increase in membership since
2007 – it is now around 750,000 – but conceded that membership tends to
fluctuate, expanding before elective conferences and declining thereafter.
Most of the new membership had been recruited in one province, Kwan50
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
Zulu Natal, mainly in territory previously closed off to the ANC by
Inkatha supporters. Nationally, since 2007, the number of branches “in
good standing” had declined and all too often, as in Limpopo Province
“general membership is not involved in activities” and “there is minimal
contact between branches and the communities they are located in”. In
general, the report acknowledged “there was a decline in consciousness
among the general membership and frequently people were joining the
organisation principally because they wanted “to access resources”.29
From a broader perspective, and more positively, trade unions continue
to exercise influence over policy makers, sometimes in the wider public
interest as with their opposition to the Protection of Information Bill.
Jacob Zama’s own accession to the party leadership in 2007 confirmed,
of course, that rank and file membership can challenge and displace party
leaders. The ANC re-elects or elects its leadership at party Congresses held
at five year intervals. Though certain positions had been contested after
1991, the 2007 election was the first time since the 1950s that an incumbent
president was displaced. Thabo Mbeki’s defeat was the consequence of
several considerations. As Mandela’s deputy and as state president from
1999 he was widely perceived to be the architect of liberal economic
policies disliked by trade union allies and blamed for high unemployment.
This might have mattered less if Mbeki had not centralised policy-making
so much within the presidential office, effectively insulating decisions
from the influence of the ANC’s national executive. His aloof managerial
style helped to compound his unpopularity. Finally, from 1998 the ANC
embraced a strategy of political patronage in which leadership “deployed”
party loyalists into key positions in the bureaucracy and in para-statal
corporations. Simultaneously it also began using government contracting
and licensing to promote black owned business. As a consequence at
each of three levels of government and associated bureaucracy – national,
provincial and local – holding political office enabled individuals to
become very wealthy and to use their influence to build their own
personal followings within the party organisation, especially within
provincial governments. Deployment and patronage opened up the scope
for personalised networks of power within the ANC and competition for
office and positions within the organisation became increasingly factional.
51
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Personal rivalries helped to complicate as well as intensifying ideological
tensions within the organisation and between it and its allies.
Jacob Zuma’s accession was supported by trade unions, a section of the
leadership of the Communist Party, whose 100,000 membership overlaps
the ANC’s much larger following, and the ANC Youth League. Since
Zuma’s election to the state presidency, perceived Mbeki loyalists have
lost positions on boards and have been “redeployed” away from key posts
within the civil service. Internal ANC politics remains very divisive. At
the end of this year the ANC is once again holding leadership elections.
At present, the main trade union leaders fall into two camps: a group
that favours Zuma’s re-election and a group that favours his replacement
by his deputy, Kgalema Motlanthe. Trade unionists who support a more
abrupt nationalisation of the mining industry as well as land expropriation
without compensation belong to the pro-change group. Zuma can
probably count on the support of public sector worker unions and the
mineworkers whose leaders tend to endorse the relatively moderate
policy prescriptions on land reform, and state intervention, whereas the
radicals are concentrated in the traditionally militant National Union
of Metalworkers.30 Meanwhile the Youth League looks likely to oppose
Zuma’s re-election: it too favours land expropriation. Though trade
unionists are often conspicuous within the Communist Party, for the time
being key Communist officials remain in the Zuma group. Communists
comprise about half of Zuma’s cabinet appointments.
The evidence reviewed above does not show an obvious or uninterrupted
movement towards authoritarian dominant politics. South African
voters in well conducted elections continue to accord support and hence
opportunities for a relatively effective parliamentary opposition. To
be sure, there is disturbing evidence of autocratic inclinations among
ANC leaders and far too much venality among senior office holders is
unchecked but day to day public administration remains fairly honest.
ANC parliamentarians on occasions challenge members of the government
and the party’s organisation itself as well as its allies have the capacity to
check domineering leaders.
52
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
Future prospects
What are the most likely scenarios?
For the ANC’s critics a pessimistic reading of current trends seems the
most plausible scenario. From this perspective, the ANC would continue
to oscillate between weakening adherence to constitutional form
and strengthening more authoritarian reflexes. To a very considerable
extent democratic prospects would depend on the extent to which
anti-authoritarian protest can mobilise support within the ANC’s own
constituency, including the labour movement. The degree to which
internal democratic restraints check the current predispositions among
ANC leaders to suppress investigative journalism represents a good
indicator of the ANC’s future commitment to democratic accountability.
Activist aggression directed at opposition parties since 2008 would in this
reading represent a trend rather than aberrations.
A second alarming possibility might be that the ANC may be weakened
by internal tensions to the point that it splits in such a way that its ability
to organise persuasive electoral campaigning is seriously damaged. It
might then be induced to retain power through eroding constitutional
restraints and through coercive electioneering. Internal tensions so far
have not generated a really severe fission. This did not happen with the
Cope breakaway in 2008 despite the secession of a key group of senior
party notables. The most dangerous development for the ANC would be
the withdrawal of trade union electoral support. Given that COSATU’s
strength is in its affiliates based in the public sector this seems unlikely. To
date for all their grumbling, COSATU leaders had been rather successful in
protecting their members’ livelihoods and their proximity to government
has been the key factor in this success. As long as trade unions can
maintain their relatively privileged access to policy-makers the threat of a
serious secession from the ANC will remain remote.
The third scenario to consider is a steady growth of electoral support for
the opposition. The decisive development here would be a breakthrough
by the Democrats in obtaining African votes. Ten years of real effort
by the Democrats to build an African base have so far yielded slight
53
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
dividends in parliamentary elections. Meanwhile Cope’s post electoral
in-fighting does not suggest that they are likely to supplant the DA as the
main opposition.31 DA progress in establishing an organisational presence
in the ANC’s base areas has been very slow and might well in future be
aggressively resisted by local ANC activists. Even so, the DA might well
take over the African voting bases of some of the declining smaller parties,
though in the Eastern Cape since 2009 the ANC’s provincial leadership
has been working hard to recapture the loyalty of Cope “defectors”.32
In KwaZulu-Natal, the ANC has been the main beneficiary of Inkatha’s
decline.
WVW
(Endnotes)
1
For a good more detailed discussion of the considerations influencing
de Klerk see Guelke, A. (2005): Rethinking the Rise and Fall of Apartheid,
Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 162-163
2
In 1989 ANC secretary general was quoted as saying that the “ANC did
not have the capacity to intensify the armed struggle in any meaningful way”.
Nzo was mistakenly reading from a secret national executive report when he
spoke at a press conference. New York Times, February 9, 1990
3
Umkhonto we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation) was the armed wing of the
African National Congress
4
For an explanation of Umkhonto’s commander, Joe Modise’s role in
fostering such activity see: Johnson, R. W. (2007): South Africa’s brave new
world: the beloved country since the end of Apartheid, London, Allen Lane
5
For the fullest analysis of public opinion on the TRC see: Gibson, J.
(2004): Overcoming Apartheid: Can truth reconcile a divided nation? Cape
Town, Human Sciences Research Council Press
6
Rod Alence supplies a helpful and positive assessment of the Court’s
independence in “South Africa after Apartheid: the first decade”, Journal of
Democracy, 15, 3 (2004): pp. 78-92
7
See, for example, Karl, T. L. (1990): Dilemmas of Democratization in
Latin America in: Comparative Politics, 23, 1
8
Giliomee, H. and Simkins, C. (1999): The dominant party regimes of
South Africa, Mexico, Taiwan and Malaysia: A comparative assessment, in:
Giliomee, H. and Simkins C.: The Awkward Embrace: One Party Domination
and Democracy, Cape Town, Tafelberg, pp. 1-45
9
Compare the following two evaluations of the 1994 and 2009 elections
respectively: Johnson, R. W. (1996): How Free? How Fair?, in: Johnson, R.
54
Tom Lodge, From Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa
W. and Schlemmer, L.: Launching Democracy in South Africa: The First Open
Election, April 1994, New Haven, Yale university Press, pp. 323-352; February,
J. (2009): The Electoral System and Electoral Administration, in: Southall, R.
and Daniel, J. (eds.), Zunami: The 2009 South African Elections, Auckland
Park, Jacana, pp. 47-64
10
For very positive exit polling findings on the secrecy of the ballot
see Michael O’Donovan, M. (1999): Election Day Exit Poll, in: Muthien, Y.:
Democracy South Africa: Evaluating the 1999 Election, Pretoria, Human
Sciences Research Council, p. 37
11
Afrimap (2006): South Africa: Democracy and Political Participation,
Open Society Foundation, London, pp. 98-99
12
Booysen, S. (2010): The Political Environment of Election 2009,
in: Matlosa, K. (ed.): Election Update: South Africa, February-July 2009,
Johannesburg, Electoral Institute of Southern Africa, p. 10
13
For survey-based findings that back an argument that voter support
for the ANC in 1994 was as much about “judgement and choice” as social
identity see Mattes, B. (1995): The Election Book: Judgement and Choice in
South Africa’s 1994 Election, Cape Town, IDASA Public Information Centre
14
ANC campaigning in elections held since 2004 is evaluated in Lodge,
T. (1999): Consolidating Democracy: South Africa’s Second Popular Election,
Johannesburg, Witwatersrand University Press, chapters 4-7; Lodge, T. (2005):
The African National Congress: There is No Party Like it; Ayiklo Efana Nayo
in: Piombo, J. and Nijzink, L.: Electoral Politics in South Africa: Assessing the
First Democratic Decade, New York, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 19-147; Butler, A.
(2009): The ANC’s National Election Campaign of 2009, in: Southall, R. and
Daniel, J. (eds.): Zunami, pp. 65-84
15
Booysen, S. (2011): The African National Congress and the
Regeneration of Political Power, Johannesburg, Witwatersrand University Press,
p. 126
16
Southall, R. and Daniel, J. (eds.) (2009), p. 269
17
Underhill, G. (2010): ANCYL admits role in Cape protest, Mail and
Guardian, November 19, 2010
18
Benjamin, C. (2010): Media gag’s a fool’s errand – Jorda”, Business
Day, November 23, 2010
19
Feinstein, A. (2009): After the Party: Corruption, the ANC and South
Africa’s Uncertain Future, London, Verso, p. 158. For details of the activities
of ANC-linked companies and the donations the ANC received from various
Black Empowerment concerns see Paton, C. (2007): Financing the ANC: Untold
Millions, Financial Mail, January 19, 2007
20
Naude, C. M. B., Prinsloo, J. and Ladikos, A. (2006): Experiences
of Crime in Thirteen African Countries: Results from the International Crime
55
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Victim Survey, Electronic Publication, UNICRI-UNODOC, pp. 37-39; Orkin, M.
(1998): Victims of Crime Survey, Pretoria, Statistics South Africa
21
World Bank-International Finance Corporation (2008): South Africa:
Country Profile, 2007, Washington, p. 9
22
Carol Paton, C. (2007): ANC and Business: Soul for Sale, Financial
Mail, January 19, 2007, p. 27
23
Conversation with Sejamothopo Motau, MP. Johannesburg, November
24, 2010. For the party political origins of party support in the 2009 election
see table in Booysen, S. (2010): Party Opposition perpetually on the verge of
promise – South Africa’s Election of 2009, Journal of African Elections, 9, 1,
June 2010, p. 97
24
Mtyaka, Q. (2012): ANC blames Cape YL, Pretoria News, May 31, 2010
25
Chanza, N. (2010): South Africa’s Fourth Parliament 2nd Term: Progress
Report, Parliamentary Monitoring Group, IDASA, Cape Town, p. 1
26
Parliament of South Africa (2009): Independent Panel assessment of
Parliament, Cape Town, January 13, 2009, p. 40
27
du Plessis, C. (2010): High calibre flak as Zuma mum on cabinet
shake-up, Sunday Independent, November 21, 2010
28
Beresford, A. (2009): Comrades back on track: the durability of the
Tripartite Alliance, African Affairs, 108, 432; Darracq, V. (2008): The ANC
organization at the grassroots, African Affairs, 107, 429; Gunner, L. (2008):
Jacob Zuma, the social body and the unruly power of song, African Affairs,
108, 430; Lodge, T. (2004): The ANC and the development of party politics in
South Africa”, Journal of Modern African Studies, 42, 2; Lodge, T. (2006): The
Future of South Africa’s party system, Journal of Democracy, 17, 3
29
Quotations from Mantashe, G. (2010): Report on the State of the
Organisation by the ANC Secretary General, ANC Website
30
Letsoalo, M. (2012): Unionist choose sides, Mail and Guardian, March
23, 2012
31
For the damage to Cope’s branch-level organisation resulting from its
leadership strife see Mataboge, M. (2010): Regions just not coping, Mail and
Guardian, May 14, 2010
32
Smuts Ngonyama believes that leadership divisions have had an
enervating effect upon Cope’s branch level membership: meetings in the
Eastern Cape are now badly attended with the factions loyal to Mbazima
Shilowa or Terror Lekota dividing the movement round down to its base
(conversation with author, Johannesburg, November 24, 2010)
56
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
Tunisia after the Revolution:
Democracy between Stalling and Collapsing
Bechir Chourou
How can I live through another day
Watching my dreams turning to ashes
And my hopes into bits of clay
(From the song “What Now My Love”)
O
n December 17th, 2010 a perfectly unknown man, who was named
Mohamed Bouazizi and who lived in a little-known small town in the
centre of Tunisia called Sidi Bouzid, decided to set himself on fire in front
of the Governor’s office. Unable to get a steady job of any kind, he tried
to eke out a living for himself and his family by selling few vegetables
that he carried around on a cart, but the police kept confiscating his cart
and vegetables because he did not have a licence to be a street vendor. On
that particular day, the same scenario was replayed once again, and once
again he went to the Governor’s office to try to recuperate his belongings
and/or get a licence for his trade. But once again, they would not even let
him into the building. So he decided to burn himself.
As dramatic as that act of self-immolation may have been, it could have
been dismissed as just a suicide attempt by a disturbed young man. In fact,
that is how local authorities initially treated the incident. But witnesses
who saw and heard Bouazizi just before he was engulfed in flames, as
well as other town inhabitants, knew from the outset that Bouazizi was
making a political statement in protest of the neglect, marginalisation
and oppression from which his town and surrounding areas have been
suffering for decades. In fact, the entire south-western part of Tunisia has
always been considered as a hotbed of rebellion because it periodically
rose up against the government, but successive regimes have been able to
quell by force any protest or discontent movements. This time, however,
repression was going to fail.
57
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
It quickly became evident that Sidi Bouzid was a tinderbox that was just
waiting for a spark to ignite it, and Bouazizi provided that spark. Before
even firemen arrived on the scene, thousands of people were converging
there, chanting anti-government slogans, attacking and burning
government buildings, and confronting policemen who rushed out of
their barracks in large numbers. The rebellion had started in earnest.
Within hours news about events in Sidi Bouzid spread through Facebook
and Twitter. In reaction, riots broke out in neighbouring towns and
started moving first northward, and then relentlessly in all directions. On
December 27th, they reached the capital Tunis. For the following 19 days
the country was in turmoil. Everywhere, crowds demanded adamantly
the same thing: “Ben Ali dégage,” i.e. get out. Eventually, the ex-President
did get out; he fled to Saudi Arabia, taking his family with him. That
was on January 14th, the date which was chosen (perhaps unfairly to
Bouazizi and Sidi Bouzid) to be the official date of the Revolution.
There are many aspects of the Tunisian Revolution that are remarkable
and that will undoubtedly be debated and analysed for years to come.
This paper proposes a preliminary discussion of two of these aspects.
The first is that the revolution ever occurred in the first place. Both under
Bourguiba and Ben Ali Tunisia had gone through a number of episodes
of more or less serious unrest, sometimes quite violent, but the regime
was always able to quell them and never came under serious threat. So
everyone thought that this was just another minor annoyance – a mere
flash in the pan – that will be quickly and efficiently dealt with. Of course,
events were to prove otherwise, and we will propose an explanation for
this exception.
The second remarkable feature of the Tunisian revolution relates to
the impact the revolution has had in other parts of the world, most
particularly in other Arab countries. As the revolution was still in its
early stages in Tunisia, large crowds started occupying streets and
plazas in a number of Arab capitals, and within weeks the regimes in
Egypt, Libya and Yemen were toppled. These developments called for a
re-examination of many previously-held ideas (some of them elevated
58
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
to the status of axioms or laws). One such idea is that the Arab world
is immune to democracy and will remain forever – along with North
Korea and Cuba – the last bastion of authoritarian rule. Another is that
even if democratically elected governments are established, they are not
likely to last because democracy is incompatible with Islam and cannot
take root in patriarchal authoritarian societies such as Arab societies. In
other words, the democratization process in Arab countries is neither
unavoidable nor irreversible.
In light of what is taking place in Tunisia and other Arab countries,
can we say that these ideas have been or will be shown to be wrong?
Concerning the first point, it will be argued here that it may have been
difficult, or even impossible, to predict when the revolution would take
place in Tunisia. However, it would not have been difficult, or particularly
sagacious, to predict that a revolution had to occur, not only in Tunisia
but in many – if not all – other Arab countries as well. Revolutions or
revolts or upheavals are not perchance events. Rather, they are like active
volcanoes; they may smoulder for years without erupting but we can be
sure that they will erupt one day. In Tunisia and other Arab countries,
popular anger had been smouldering for years, and keeping it under a
tight lid did not and could not make it go away. Bouazizi merely provided
the first breach from which the impatient lava could be released, first in
Tunisia and then elsewhere.
With respect to the second point relating to the sustainability of
democracy (if and when it is established), its discussion at this point
may be premature. Barely a year has gone by since the onset of the Arab
Spring. So far some autocratic regimes have been toppled, but others are
still in power and are either fighting for their survival or are making preemptive concessions to stymie revolts. But whatever the case may be,
there has not been sufficient time for any situation to jell, or any solid
evidence to emerge indicating the likely outcome of a process that is still
underway. Such a viewpoint is well taken: You cannot have an objective
evaluation of a situation that has not yet occurred or that has just got
under way. Nevertheless, it will be argued that an analysis of the Arab
Spring must be undertaken immediately because if we wait for further
59
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
evidence to emerge, we might miss an opportunity to influence the course
of events. In my opinion, what has taken place so far does not portend a
good future for democracy in Tunisia or the rest of the Arab world. In fact,
there is a serious risk of having a new form of autocracy replacing the old
one. However, it is still possible to avoid such an outcome if proper and
timely action is taken.
The paper will be organised as follows: Part I will deal with the root
causes of the Tunisian revolution and, more generally, of the Arab Spring.
Part II will examine the likely direction that revolutions in Tunisia and
elsewhere in the Arab world may take, either towards effective and
sustainable democracies or towards new forms of authoritarian rule. Part
III will suggest measures that may favour the emergence and growth of
democracy on the Southern shores of the Mediterranean.
I – Origins of the Tunisian Uprising
Ten days after Bouazizi set himself on fire, President Ben Ali still believed
that he was dealing with a minor incident that foreign media conspired
to blow out of proportion. Even when demonstrations were held in Tunis
on December 27th, 2010 he refused to acknowledge the existence of a
serious situation that needed particular attention. In fact, it has been
reported that as he was boarding the plane on his way to Saudi Arabia,
he was dismayed at what was happening and did not understand why he
was made to flee.
Ben Ali’s foreign friends were also taken by surprise when riots broke out
in the country. Some of them offered to send equipment for riot control.
Others vaguely called for an end of violence. But practically all appeared
to believe that the situation would eventually come under control. Such
an attitude is not difficult to understand. For twenty three years the Ben
Ali regime conveyed an image of Tunisia as a stable, prosperous, moderate
and modern country. Foreign countries and international organisations
accepted that view quite readily, and went out of their way to confirm
it in official declarations and reports. When human rights activists and
organisations made claims that the Ben Ali regime was guilty of major
60
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
violations of human rights and of crimes against opposition leaders, the
claims were denied and their authors punished.
The enemy of our enemy
During the Cold War the American and Soviet camps were in constant
competition over friends and allies, and were willing to pay whatever was
necessary to attract and keep “Third World” countries in their respective
camps. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the war should have ended
for lack of an enemy – but it did not. US economic and political interests,
particularly in the Middle East, were not completely secure against a
renewed activism of Fundamentalist movements here and there, and the
intention of some Arab leaders to challenge the existing status quo. For
example, Saddam Hussein had declared in February 1990 that after the
disappearance of the Soviet Union, the Persian Gulf could fall under the
complete control of the United States, and that the Arabs should unite
to defeat such a plan. In response, the US launched on January 1991 its
first invasion of Iraq. The official reason was to repel Iraqi occupation of
Kuwait, but the real reason was, as explained by Zbigniew Brzezinski at
the time, to ensure stable supply of Gulf oil at reasonable prices. Then,
there were the infamous events of September 11th, 2001 which prompted
the US to launch an all-out war on terror in general and Al Qaeda and
Qaeda-sponsored terrorist organisations in particular. To insure the
success of that operation, the US sought to mobilize as much support as
it could.
There was a time when anyone who claimed to be anti-Communist
could count on the unwavering support of the US. After the death of
Communism the new enemy became Fundamentalism or, more precisely,
Muslim Fundamentalism. The immediate consequence was that nearly
all Arab regimes declared their full support of the US and proceeded to
chase all those terrorists who had been hiding in their midst. Many of the
arrested suspects were not even practicing Muslims and had no connexion
with terrorist groups, but who was going to quibble with such details?
Interests vs. principles
61
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
US foreign policy has been characterised by a clear separation between
principles and interests to the point where that foreign policy appeared to
be inconsistent. Thus, the United States has a long history of supporting
dictatorships, although it presents itself as a champion of democracy. The
European Union (EU), on the other hand, has not had a common foreign
policy in any area or domain – at least until recently. With respect to the
Arab region, Europe tended to follow the US lead when it came to the
Middle East, while it tried to play a leading role in North Africa. But here
too there is a kind of division of labour whereby the EU members tended
to yield to the more ‘relevant’ members, namely, France, Italy and Spain.
And what we observe is that these three countries, and most particularly
France, as well as the European Commission, tended to give a nearly
unconditional support to the autocrats in power. The only institution that
would every now and then criticise those autocrats was the European
Parliament.
Successive US administrations and European governments tried to justify
their policies in various ways. The most common argument is that the
Arab regimes in place make an invaluable contribution to the security of
Western governments by preventing dangerous elements from migrating
illegally to Europe where they might become involved in terrorism or
drug trafficking or other illegal activities. The same Western governments
might concede that ruling regimes do not always have a good track record
in the areas of respect of human rights, accountability or democracy, but
they maintain that discreet behind-the-scene pressure is being brought
to bear on them to adopt appropriate reforms. They further indicate that
they have adopted in the last few years a substantive change in policy
whereby they no longer consider Islamist movements systematically as
radical or dangerous; instead, they recognise that there are moderate
Islamists and they would be willing to open a dialogue with them (it
remains unclear what topics the dialogue would deal with). Most of these
ideas have come in the framework of programmes such as the US Middle
East Partnership Initiative (MEPI) or the EU European Neighbourhood
Policy (ENP).
62
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
A change of heart?
Much criticism may be addressed – and has been addressed – to these
policies. It is not the purpose here to evaluate those policies or opinions
about them, but there is one point that needs to be underlined. American
and European policies towards the Arab world are often said to be
inconsistent. While it may be true that those policies are inconsistent
with values that the US and the EU proclaim as essential considerations
when dealing with foreign States, it is not necessarily true that they are
inconsistent in the sense that they vary with time and space. Some might
reject this view as contrary to observed facts and to a certain extent,
they would be right. As mentioned earlier, the initial reactions from
Western capitals when the Tunisian uprising was taking place were either
supportive of Ben Ali, or cautiously noncommittal (e.g. no to violence,
there should be negotiations, etc.), or pretending that nothing important
was taking place. The same trend was to be observed later on in the case
of Egypt, Bahrain, Yemen or Morocco. Then, when it became evident
that the protesters would accept nothing short of the departure of the
targeted dictator, the latter’s erstwhile supporters abandoned him or even
forced him out of power. However, one position taken in one country is
not necessarily repeated elsewhere even when the situations are nearly
identical. To confuse matters even further, some dictators repressed
violently popular uprisings without eliciting any reaction in Western
capitals.
At first glance this behaviour may appear inconsistent, but the
inconsistency depends upon where the observer stands. For a third party
observing the two protagonists (the concerned dictator and his foreign
patrons), the discrepancies are evident. For the concerned dictator, he
probably felt betrayed when his friends turned into tormentors. But from
the point of view of Western governments their stands concerning each
Arab uprising are not at all inconsistent: in fact, they are quite consistent
in that they all serve the national interest.
This statement should not be taken as a criticism of the West. In fact,
one can venture to say that Western governments are to be congratulated
63
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
for doing what any democratic government is expected to do, namely,
defend the interests of electors and of the nation. On the other hand,
one can – should – criticise Arab rulers whose decisions have not only
served foreign interests but have also been detrimental to the national
interests. When some of those rulers were overthrown, the rebels had
hopes that the new leaders would change this approach to foreign policy.
Contrariwise, Western governments would want a continuation of the
status quo that had served their national interests for decades, and
would most probably consider any attempt to change that status quo as a
serious threat to national security. Therefore, one would not be surprised
if those governments should wish to see in power new regimes that
would not create complications in international relations by introducing
radical changes in what have become acceptable inter-state procedures
and practices. It is on the basis of this premise that we should examine
current and future relations between the Arabs and the West.
II – Where do we go from here?
On January 14th, 2011 Zine el Abidine Ben Ali fled the country. Immediately,
the President of the National Assembly took over as acting President (in
conformity with the Constitution) and appointed a Prime Minister whom
he charged with forming a provisional government to deal with current
business and prepare for legislative and presidential elections.
Some of the early decisions taken by the interim government include:
-
-
-
-
Abolition of the (1956) Constitution;
Proclamation of a general amnesty and liberation of all political
prisoners;
Reinstitution of civil liberties, including freedom of speech, of
assembly and of the press;
Authorisation to form political parties (under certain conditions) and
other types of associations.
The impact that these measures and other subsequent ones have had
on the political, economic and social situation of the country continues
64
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
to be felt to this day. There is no doubt that these measures were at
the core of the demands of the people who overthrew the dictatorship.
However, it is a well known fact that a good medicine can have negative
effects if administered in excessive doses. This is, in effect, the situation
in which the country found itself. Having lived under authoritarian rule
for over fifty years, people wanted to exercise rights which they had never
enjoyed. However, they may not have realised that democracy does not
mean anarchy, and that the right to free expression implies necessarily a
duty to listen to others expressing themselves. At any rate, the measures
taken towards establishing democracy have had two consequences that
are sufficiently important to deserve special attention: the emergence
of self-proclaimed leaders and defenders of the Revolution, and the
unreasonable and counter-productive proliferation of political parties.
Opportunism writ large
Bouazizi’s sacrifice was not premeditated, and the ensuing marches were
spontaneous and under no visible leadership. The uprising in Sidi Bouzid
was not reported in the official media for several days; news about it
spread only through the Internet, and as soon as people learned the
news, they took to the streets without the prompting of any person or
organisation. Yet, when Ben Ali fled the country, several individuals and
organisations claimed responsibility for that event.
Political prisoners were freed. Most of them were members of the Islamist
movement known as Nahdha, since other political activists had managed
to leave the country to escape arrest, or else were co-opted by the regime
as a façade opposition. Those who were forced into exile returned home
and were received as heroes. Of course, they all paid tribute to Bouazizi
and other martyrs of the revolution and swore to do their utmost to ensure
the success of the revolution.
But as time went by, the attitude and the discourse of some of these
opposition leaders started to change subtly – not to say surreptitiously.
It appears as if those whose very presence as political leaders on the
liberated scene of Tunisia would not have been possible without the
65
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Revolution, wanted to suggest that the Revolution would not have taken
place if it had not been for them. This suggestion became particularly
strong during the campaign for the election of the Constituent Assembly
(I shall return to that election shortly).
In any case, the contest that was taking shape purported to identify
those who are genuine and legitimate defenders and protectors of the
revolution, those who are mere opportunists who want to use the
revolution to serve their narrow private interests, and those who are
outright counterrevolutionaries who seek to resuscitate the Ben Ali
regime. Needless to say, those claims and counterclaims, given their
political character, did not have to be based on evidence, so that one
is tempted to take them as humorous entertainment rather than submit
them so serious analysis if it were not for the grave consequences that
they could have on the targeted individuals.
Let a hundred parties blossom
Freedom of association is an essential element of democracy. It was
therefore natural that the first provisional government decided quite early
to legalise existing opposition parties and to allow the creation of new
political parties (provided that they respect the stipulations of the law on
associations of May 1988).
Prior to January 14th there were eight ‘opposition’ parties that were
officially recognised, six of which being represented in the National
Assembly elected in October 2009 (now dissolved). At present, there
are more than one hundred parties registered with the Ministry of the
Interior. For many commentators, this proliferation is quite natural and
had already been observed in many countries in Europe and elsewhere
that went through similar transitional periods; in time, most of these
parties will wither away for lack of members. In any case, citizens who
had just overthrown a dictatorship would reject any limitation to their
fundamental freedoms. Finally, a large number of parties can create no
harm and can even have many benefits for society. After all, when as
notorious a dictator as Mao Zedong comes out in favour of “letting a
66
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
hundred flowers blossom and a hundred schools of thought contend,”
on the basis that this would be the best “policy for promoting progress in
the arts and the sciences and a flourishing socialist culture in our land,” 1
how can any democrat argue otherwise?
There is no doubt that pluralism in general, and a multi-party system in
particular, are characteristic features of a democracy. However, theory and
practice indicate that a large number of parties may result in instability
and may even lead to new forms of tyranny, especially in parliamentary
systems. The current situation in Tunisia resulting from the elections of
October 2011 illustrates this point.
Elections of the National Constituent Assembly
The decision having been made to abandon the existent constitution, it
became necessary to elect an assembly to draft a new one. An independent
commission called Instance Supérieure Indépendante des Elections (ISIE)
was appointed to organise and oversee the entire electoral process, and
a date was set for the elections (the initial date of July 24th was changed
to October 23th). The decree calling for the election specified that the
National Constituent Assembly (NCA) was to have a term of one year
from the date of its first session, and that in addition to drafting a new
constitution, it would also serve as the nation’s parliament.
From the outset most of the players chose to ignore the rules of the game.
Practically all candidates to the NCA conducted a campaign as if they
were running for a legislature rather than for a constituent assembly.
Instead of presenting their views on the content of the new constitution
(branches of government, separation of powers, form of the executive
…), candidates presented programmes for providing employment, raising
incomes, improving health services and other similar issues.
This is not to say that these are unimportant issues, but they are not
directly relevant to this particular election. Consequently, orienting voters’
67
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
attention to side issues could be considered as a form of deception. There
were many other instances of irregular or unethical behaviour, such as
promising housing, free health care and employment to all citizens, or
declaring that not voting for a particular party would be a sinful act, or
offering bribes, or refusing to identify sources of financial support. But
these are not unusual practices, even in well-established democracies,
and their impact on the final outcome was probably minimal.
At any rate, the electoral commission ISIE set the number of seats in the
NCA at 217 and validated 1,517 lists (slates) containing 11,686 candidates
competing for those seats (voters choose slates, not individual candidates).
On election day there were long lines of people who waited for hours to
cast their ballot. It was clear that people were eager to participate in the
first free election ever to be organised in the country. At some polling
stations the affluence of voters was so important that they had to remain
open well beyond closing time.
The official results as published by ISIE are summarised in Table 1.
Without going into a detailed analysis of those results, one can underline
the following points:
-
The Islamist party Nahdha obtained the largest number of seats (89 out
of 217 or 41 percent) without, however, winning an outright majority.
This victory is quite significant: Nahdha slates received nearly as
many votes as all other party slates combined (1.5 million vs. 1.6
million), and won almost as many seats as its four main competitors
(89 vs. 91). However, the landslide that was expected – and that was
possible – did not materialise.
Nahdha started with several advantages over its competitors. First, it
enjoyed a wide recognition across the country. For decades it had been
a well known activist movement and an important actor on the political
scene. Secondly, the movement’s leaders, members and supporters
have been victims of constant persecution and spent years in jail under
difficult physical and psychological conditions. Consequently, they were
considered as martyrs who deserve to occupy the leadership positions
68
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
Table 1: National Constituent Assembly Election Results
PARTIES
VOTES
SEATS
Number
% a Number %
89 41.01
1 501 320 37.04
29 13.36
353 041
8.71
273 362
6.74
26 11.98
20 9.22
284 989
7.03
159 826
3.94
16 7.37
Nahdha*
Congrès pour la République*
Pétition populaire
Ettakatol*
Parti démocrate progressiste
14 other parties that won 1 to
5 seats each
594 042
Independent lists
62 293
Lists that won no seats
1 290 293
Cast votes
4 308 888
Registered voters
8 289 924
14.65
1.54
31.83
51.98b
--
* Governing coalition
a
Total exceeds 100 due to rounding
b
Voter turnout, i.e. actual voters/registered voters
Source: Instance Supérieure Indépendante des Elections (ISIE)
29 13.36
8 3.69
0 -217 100.00
---
from which they had been unfairly kept away. Thirdly, the values
and principles that they defend (equity, integrity, compassion ...)
are shared by most citizens, although presenting them as features of
Islam rather than as universal values is questionable. Lastly, Nahdha
has been able to mobilise sufficient human and financial resources to
establish direct contact with citizens in all corners of the country, and
to provide immediate and concrete assistance to all those who needed
it, whether it is covering expenses for a wedding ceremony, or a sheep
for a religious holiday, or cement for a new room in the house.
Therefore, the surprise was not that Nahdha won so many seats,
but rather that it did not win much more. In a sense, this outcome
is rather reassuring for the future. The most logical conclusion that
one can draw is that Nahdha’s support does not go much beyond
what it has received, and that at the next election (when and if it
takes place) it is not likely to get a better score. In fact, it may even
69
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
-
suffer a decline if its performance in office remains as poor as it has
been so far, and if the opposition succeeds in revising its strategy.
The second lesson that can be inferred from the election is that the
opposition did not lose the election so much as it refused to accept
the victory granted by the electors. What the figures show is that the
number of seats obtained by slates other than those affiliated with
Nahdha is 128, which is largely sufficient for a direct control of the
NCA. So the question is: Why is Nahdha not in the minority where
its score should have confined it? The answer is quite evident: The
opposition did not go into the game as a team but as a hodgepodge
of individual players with different levels of skills, experience and
visibility. The result of the confrontation was thus determined in
advance.
As voters tried to choose among the multitude of slates in the running,
they found themselves confronted with hundreds of programmes,
proposals and ideas. Moreover, the platforms presented were so
similar that it was almost impossible to distinguish between them
or to identify them with a specific party or slate. In fact, when we
analyse the declared ideology or manifesto of the various parties,
we find that they can be aggregated under four or five major labels:
the socialists/social democrats, the liberals/centrists, and the
conservatives (including the Islamists). Had the dozens of parties
chosen to find common denominators around which they could
coalesce, the political landscape and the election outcome might have
been quite different.
Recent developments do not indicate whether the non-conservative
parties (i.e. parties other than Nahdha and to its left) have drawn
the correct lessons from their electoral counter-performance. On the
one hand, several initiatives have been taken by parties to merge,
although few concrete results have been achieved so far. On the other
hand, some of the existing parties are torn by internal dissent and
threaten to implode. At present, there is little indication as to which
trend will prevail – the centripetal or the centrifugal. Of course, the
next elections are still months away but the concerned parties should
70
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
-
realise that a new configuration of the party system needs to be in
place well ahead of that event.
The third lesson to emerge from the NCA election relates to the socalled wasted ballots or votes that were cast but did not translate into
seats in the Assembly. Tunisia opted for the electoral method called
the closed party list proportional representation, and the method
of the largest remainder for allocating seats among winning lists.
This approach is said to have the advantage of offering electors the
possibility of finding a slate or a party that comes closest to their
opinions or views, and providing each slate with an opportunity to
have access to the body to be elected. However, this advantage is not
likely to materialise when the number of competing lists becomes too
large – as was the case in the NCA election.
In any case, electors who were not already committed to Nahdha
were faced with three alternatives. They could choose to support
one of the ‘historical’ opposition parties (CPR, Ettakatol, PDP); some
800,000 voters did so and those three parties won 65 seats. But a large
segment of the electorate became disenchanted with these parties
(for a variety of reasons that space does not allow to discuss), and
opted for the alternative of looking elsewhere. However, this option
presented a certain risk. One would have to make an educated guess
that a vote for a preferred list would not be wasted if that list fails to
obtain enough votes to win a seat. Nearly 1.3 million voters took that
risk – and ended up being disenfranchised! Many of them probably
came to regret not having joined the group that chose the third
alternative of sitting out the election – a group to which few analysts
or politicians paid any attention despite its size (close to 3.9 million
citizens).
Back to square one?
The Tunisian revolution is only fourteen months old, and the first
democratic election took place barely five months ago. Furthermore, the
process that started on December 17th, 2010 is not over yet, and the period
that started on November 22nd, 2011 when the newly elected Constituent
71
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
Assembly held its first session, is a transitory period that should last one
year. Therefore, it may be premature to make any sensible evaluation
of what has taken place, much less to make credible projections about
future developments. Nevertheless, there are some unmistakable trends
that cannot be ignored, and they should push us to be concerned, if not
alarmed, about the future of democracy in Tunisia.
A fact that cannot be contested is that Nahdha won a plurality of seats
in the Constituent Assembly. But what can be contested is how Nahdha
interprets and uses this fact. Members of this party claim that voters have
given it a mandate to carry out its programme, and democracy requires
that it be given an opportunity to do so. This is not correct. Nahdha
simply does not have enough votes to act on its own. Furthermore, the
only legal and binding mandate of all the parties elected to the NCA is
the one defined in the decree calling for the election of the Assembly,
namely, to write a new constitution as a primary task and to carry out
other clearly defined secondary functions.
Another contention that may be disputed concerns the degree of
representativeness that Nahdha thinks it has. First, it must be kept in mind
that plurality is different from majority. Secondly, a score of 37 percent of
the votes may appear important when compared with the scores of other
parties, but it becomes less so reported to the entire electorate, including
electors who did not vote. Consequently, Nahdha does not represent 37
percent of the people, as it likes to proclaim, but merely 18 percent of the
registered voters or 15 percent of the Tunisian population.
In addition to dismissing such arguments as pure sour grapes, Nahdha
has been waging a deliberate campaign to denigrate critics and opponents
or to divert attention to other issues and artificially created controversies.
Another cause of concern is the behaviour of the other political parties
both inside and outside of the NCA. As soon as the election returns
were in, Nahdha called on all ‘true patriots to join it in undertaking the
exalting and nonpartisan task of writing a constitution that meets the
expectations of the valorous martyrs of the Revolution.’ Two parties (CPR
72
Bechir Chourou, Tunisia after the Revolution
and Ettakatol) that were considered as liberal accepted the invitation.
After days of negotiations an agreement was made whereby the three
parties would form a coalition inside the NCA, and CPR would get the
Presidency of the Republic, Ettakatol the Chair of the NCA, and Nahdha
the Premiership in the provisional government to be issued from the NCA
(with some ministries to go to the two partner parties).
This ‘deal’ angered many of those who voted for CPR and Ettakatol as
well as members of the parties’ leadership who denounced the ‘unnatural’
alliance with Nahdha. At the same time, other non-religious parties and
various segments of civil society felt that there was a clear and present
danger of a return of authoritarianism. Everyone was aware that Tunisia
could become another example of countries where democracy came only
to kill democracy.
The country is living a period of great instability. After more than fifty
years of oppression, all want to air their grievances. Every victim of every
form of oppression or injustice wants immediate and full reparation.
Every form of pressure is used to ensure the satisfaction of demands. Wild
strikes, demonstrations, marches, sabotage, and naked violence have
become daily occurrences. The result is that the economy is practically at
a standstill. Unemployment is increasing, state coffers are nearly empty,
foreign currency reserves at the Central Bank are dwindling at an alarming
rate. Investments have stopped.
It is true that all revolutions are followed by periods of instability and
even chaos, and there is no reason that Tunisia should be an exception.
In addition, many countries (Arab and non-Arab) have expressed their
commitment to the democratisation process and pledged moral and
financial support to help the country as it goes through this delicate
transitional period. But the fact of the matter is that no concrete relief has
been felt, nor are there any signs that it is forthcoming.
Tunisia finds itself in the role of Sisyphus: it must keep pushing the rock
of democracy up the hill. At the end of the journey, it will have to ensure
that the rock does not fall back to the bottom but while on the way,
73
Democratic Transitions: Perspectives and Case Studies
it cannot stop for too long. Democracy is too weighty to be held at a
standstill for too long; it must keep moving towards its final destination
or it will go back to its initial stage of dormancy in the valley of autocracy.
A short letter sent by a citizen to a local newspaper provides a fitting
description of the current national mood (excerpts translated from French
by the author).
Fellow citizens,
What our country is going through is not a fatality. It is a disease
that we must fight. Confronted with the incompetence of politicians
in general, and of the opposition parties in particular, civil society
and all citizens of goodwill have become the last fence to stop the
advance of Islamist fascism…
I urge you to denounce plots being carried out against our unity.
We must spread our revolution to our brothers who continue to live
under the yoke of autocrats…
I urge you to remain vigilant. Let us not be naïve; religious parties
are taking us – in small but incremental steps – towards a theocracy.
I urge you to save the Revolution of 14 January. The motherland
is in danger, surrounded by cowards who operate in the dark. We
must protect it.
Today the world is watching us. Tomorrow History will judge us.
Slim Belhassen, La Presse, 6 March 2012, p. 8
WVW
(Endnotes)
1
Mao Zedong (1957): On the Correct Handling of Contradictions Among
the People (February 27, 1957), 1st pocket ed., pp. 49-50
74